In a photograph taken in 1957,
Jayne Mansfield sits at a table.
Her neck and shoulders are bare,
Deliciously painted and bewigged,
She is so corseted, pressed and embosomed
That her breasts almost fill the picture -
Creamy and soft in their downy voluptuousness.
Beside her sits the dark haired Sophia Loren,
Who poutingly glares at La Mansfield's breasts
As though they were an affront to Italian womanhood.
Breasts are catchment areas of fantasy.
Breast augmentation, which is an industry,
Creates both deformity and physical suffering.
What we have is never good enough.
And they are contaminated by toxins
Such as flame retardants found in food,
Which accumulate in the soft fatty tissue.
Not to mention breast cancer,
Which has steadily increased since 1940
Leading to mastectomy by choice- the ultimate reinvention of self.
Perhaps that was what got up Loren's elegant nose
All those years ago at a table posing for a photograph.
I like to think that she was commenting on falsity
And artifice. Or perhaps she was simply jealous.
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