The Making Of A Modern Woman

The making of a modern woman
Is an industrial process.
She is composed of used and recycled parts,
Only those parts no longer valued for their original purpose,
Are smelt and repossessed.
She is steamed, pressed, rolled, dried, pounded, pulled, shaped, molded, painted.
Then marketed, sold, bought, displayed.

Inevitably, she disappoints.
She is left to gather dust,
And disappear in plain sight.

Left to herself for the first time in her creation,
She picks herself up, dusts herself off, and looks around for what she deems to be of value.
She gathers these up, cradles them, ensures they fulfill each of their ambitions,
And watches her own move on without her.

At the end of her life, she sits.
She thanks the curious young woman handing her a cup of tea.
She reassures her that nothing had ever been taken away, because
Nothing had ever been given.
And that all of the work of her hands had been made with her heart, and thus
Its worth cannot be determined.

The making of a modern woman
Is an industrial process.
The living of her
Is only either material,
Or immaterial.
Her core is unknown – unseen, unfathomed, unsung.
But it will remain,
A legacy system,
Long after you are gone.


1 comment so far

  1. Kathleen on


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