Why do we wear clothing so altered
that it hurts us?
Why do we totter
on painful four-inch heels
or allow the crotch in our pants
to hover around our knees,
cutting off all avenues of escape?
All avenues of comfort, all avenues of freedom or readiness?
Why do we alter our movement
to accommodate this clothing,
until we are hamstrung?
Balance, reaction time, the length of our stride–
all compromised.
It is not power we feel
in four-inch heels.
It is not a sense of security or well-being
we have when our pants are in danger of ending up around our ankles,
and we have to worry about tripping and falling because we are in a potato-sack race
with our own pants.
