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July 23, 2001

"This poem was written in response to my lecturer who felt my poems had no turmoil or depth. My friends believe I was angry at men in particular but truth to tell, I wasn't."



I'm not a Barbie doll
For you to dress up as you please,
This body please is mine only
From Thailand down to Singapore.
Don't make me up to be more feminine,
I have enough, thank you.
Don't dress me up in soft material,
They'll flow along wrong crevices.
I'd also feel a gawky crow
Trying on someone else's feathers.
Suggestions are merely tolerated,
Just don't expect me to take notes.
Oh please, oh please stop your words,
Hang Li Po's well is full already.
I maybe single at 34,
That doesn't mean I'm S-A-D,
Single, available and desperate.
Don't tell me if I dress nice enough,
Suitors will have karaoke sessions
Beneath my bedroom window.
Don't tell me about standing
Under the correct durian tree,
The fruit might just fall on my head,
I'll spend my days a vegetable.
Don't tell me that the hairs on my legs
Are longer than the rambutan fruits.
At least one thing I know for sure,
Those on me are naturally mine
Not like the ones on some bald patches.
You say that I don't create chances,
Well, sorry but I disagree
Because when I but smile and say, "Hello"
You say I'm cheap and easy.
And then when I don't say anything,
You say, "Aiyoh, thinks she's high class."
Just save your time and rest your tongue
Or it will be just like talking to the residents six feet under.
Don't look upwards as if to say,
"When will this girl-woman change?"
The answer is, I'm glad to say,
You'll just have to wait till the cat grows horns.
So don't you feel I'm lacking any,
I'm doing very well, thank you.