The Drag Race Pentina Project
When I was young, I played with Barbies
with this girl friend of mine. We’d clown around, playing on the Barbie design computer game, eliminating flawed dolls. We wouldn’t let any return from the garbage bin. I remember her dad faintly as an imposing tall man. Her dad was a giant to me. I don’t know what he thought of a boy playing with Barbie; she moved away, never to return. Those play dates led to my own Barbies. Barbies are like clowns: their faces are painted on. Barbies aren’t like clowns in that you can eliminate certain parts of a doll’s face. A doll is all or nothing, you can eliminate parts but it’s a doll in the end. I don’t remember how my dad felt about me playing with dolls. Maybe he clowned around with me, happy to see when I stripped Barbies naked. Of course, I’d return their clothes, and at that point, they couldn’t return to the store. I eliminated any chance of a refund. My Barbies lingered for a few years until they vanished, but it wasn’t my dad’s doing. It was my mom’s. She’d probably prefer I stuck to clowns. At least clowns make people laugh. They return people from the brink of discarded dads, who had been eliminated from kid’s lives. It’s no surprise we have time for Barbies.
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This section is dedicated to my poetry inspired by RuPaul's Drag Race. There's at least one poem per contestant in the completed project. All of the poems are written as pentinas.
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