Tuesday, October 14, 2003

An American Obsession...

Reading Slate today, came across this essay about the seemingly ubiquitous low-rise pants...

Was reminded of a poem...

Woman waiting in the airport

It was the brief sight
of your red thong underwear

which captivated me.
The swath of tan flesh

from the top of your well worn
jeans to your black lace

top caught my eye.
You were focused on your

reading, the bustle of the airport
swirling about you, your tan face

framed by golden hair.
Then as you shifted in your chair

the brush of red
and I quickened, glued to my own

chair, sun in my eyes,
the read clear like a matador’s cape,

beckoning to me,
danger and a killing sword hidden.

Even from a distance,
I could feel the silky fabric

in my mind, hands desiring
to trace the tan flesh,

fingers following the red fabric.

They're everywhere...

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