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In my perfect self-enclosed universe,
my sixty Andy Warhol seconds,
there are lots of gorgeous men
in tiny little European bathing suits.
Beautiful men, masculine & hip,
stand around a huge, uterine aquamarine pool.
(Okay, so my perfect universe is a little Freudian,
but aside from that it's heaven.)
The men are bringing the women cold beers,
in between diving and flexing,
and rippling through the water.
The women are wearing fabulous little Chanel suits,
Fortune 500 gals having a beer and a little
divertissement,
reading the Necrofile
before the next power meeting.
In Armani sunglasses,
it's hard to know what the women are thinking.
Probably about how hot the men look,
and how happy they are that
the Great Gender Reversal finally took place—
if only for a minute.
This is my beer commercial
& I don't have to apologize
for turning men into sex objects;
In this parallel universe
men enjoy being sex objects.
And a fabulous postmodern ending:
the women reveal themselves as Ad Execs,
who are drawing up a brilliant campaign
about men & women & beer
where the women are wearing Gucci,
& the men expose their perfect pecs.
by Myna Wallin
from: Vulnerable Positions, ©2002
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