Sharon Sprat strides down the beach eating a carrot,
her fake tan enhancing an image of glowing health.
She’s skips cream and alcohol at dinner parties,
then binges on chocolate and cocktails back home.
Carrot woman pays for hard muscles at the gym
and chews her way through heaps of muesli to shit grain.
She’s full of self, while indulging in deprivation,
and sex is a workout to keep her body trim.
This one-and-eight-tenths metre, forty kilo model,
is little more than a glorified clothes hanger
glamourising malnutrition as a fashion.
Excuse me, Sharon–do you think you’re immortal?
Sarah Potter Writes 