Her little black dress is by Ralph Lauren,
her complexion is Lancome.
Estee lauder blushed her lips
And Apple made her phone.
She loves the feel of Hermes’ silk
upon her naked skin.
Her shoes are Gucci,
her bag by Coach.
Her perfume is “my Sin”

Lady Clairol turned her hair
the color of ripe wheat.
She’s a devil wearing Prada
who looks good enough to eat.
I ponder on this vision
And a stray thought makes me laugh:
My fiercely independent woman
Has been “branded” like a calf.