Body

"Wouldja lookit
the body on that one"
is not a compliment,
but something you would say
about a car
or a horse
or a dog.
I am tired of being
just another body
(i am tired of having a body)
and being regarded
as little more than
another empty doll
to be re-placed
in her box or house
when playtime is over.
Someone told me once
that an obsession or fetish
with a body part or size
is the marker of a misogynist:
one who hates women,
who slices them into parts
like so much beef at the butcher shop.
"I'm a leg man"
"I'm a breast man"
"I'm an ass man"
but I am not a leg
or a breast
or an ass
(unlike you),
I am not available
for $4.99 per lb.
over the counter
to be cut up and fried
in your skillet.
My body,
Jennifer's body,
might be a horrorshow
but it is not scripted,
it is not partitioned into
pieces for consumption,
it is not rated for viewer discretion,
it is not to be graded
on a scale from 1
to 10.
You may not wrap me in plastic,
nor may you tell me
what you think you know I want,
you may not force me down
nor pose me for your scene;
these boots were made for walking,
these lips were made for talking,
not for stalking,
not for mocking,
not for gawking,
not for shocking,
this body was made for rocking
to the beat of my own drums.