It’s too late to get my daughter
newborn stilettos
a baby makeover
cotton crop bras in size 0
or a romper to claim her daddy just wanted a blowjob.
Perhaps next birthday she’ll get
Bratz dolls
six-pack of pretty g-strings
sequinned bikini
porn star t-shirt
or Playboy lip gloss: In the Mood.
In a couple of years maybe
a push-up tween bra
computer game where she can buy virtual breast implants
lacy corset
her first pair of dominatrix boots
or a kiddie magazine with the cover story I’m ready for my first time.
When she starts high school, there’ll be
tickets to see the Pussycat Dolls
gastric banding
Brazilian waxing
a t-shirt suggesting cats are powerful
or one saying It’s not rape if you yell surprise.
Once she turns sixteen
a pole-dancing kit
meal replacement shakes
voucher for Botox
her first Vajazzle
a weekend away with her boyfriend
or a boozy party playing Spin the Bottle.
When she first moves out
a plant for her hydroponic garden
set of satin sheets
lift to her first porno shoot
and a business card for a local shrink.
Then once she’s all grown up
I don’t think there’ll be anything left.
***
This poem is included in Tiggy Johnson’s new poetry collection, First Taste, which is available at St Kilda Readings and Collected Works. Otherwise, order directly through Page Seventeen.
