Judith Sanders: The Rubber Woman
Hello. I am the Rubber Woman. Throw me off a cliff and watch me bounce. Make love to me clumsy and I still smile my rubber smile. Make a mistake and I erase it with my rubber tongue. I am a fantastic dancing partner. I can bend over backward. You can step on my toes. If you twist my arm or pull my leg, if you wring my neck and my head falls off, just rubber cement me back together. Or pick up a replacement at your local hardware store. Hello. I am your Rubber Woman. I have a thousand uses: crash dummy, sex toy, punching bag, life raft. My arm’s a plunger, my lap a laundry basket, my breasts baby bottles, my hairdo an umbrella, and I never need ironing. Drag me through the mud, hose me off, and I’m as good as new, ready to bop down the street in my perky rubber dress, never a hair out of place. Hello. I am a Rubber Woman. Please check the battery on my built-in smoke detector, as I can burn.
Copyright 2021 Judith Sanders
Is this poem being anthropomorphic accidentally? Is the poet literally competing with a blow up doll? Has she been reading the backwards sci-fi of Ray Bradbury? S’up?
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As I read the poem, it is a series of metaphors for what it means to be a woman in our society.
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Oh this one’s good! 😉
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