“Wife-Beater” Shirt
Sometimes all it takes is one look and sometimes that’s a big mistake
She had posed for some photos
in a tight black singlet,
mostly just from her head
to below her chest,
the pics, not showing
the rest of her
But her boobs looked
huge, because they WERE huge!
She was a poet
and she’d published a few things
and was also an editor for
an online Lit. mag.
Googling her,
in the Images section,
were the black singlet pics
that had caught my attention
in the first place.
But in most of the other Google pics
she looked like
a developmentally delayed
7th grader, her boobs hidden,
her clothes, shoes, hair, all
done-up to attract attention
to how youthful and “fun”
she wanted to appear.
(I think she was actually
already in her 30s).
Nonetheless
those black singlet pics
kept haunting me
and I started-up a
correspondence with her
supposedly to discuss poetry.
I even wrote a poem about
women with big boobs,*
inspired by my fantasies about her,
and in that poem owning
in my own admittedly pervy way,
how much I adored her.
I sent her a copy of my best-selling
and most critically acclaimed book,
personalized and autographed,
and I admitted in subsequent emails
that I had a crush on her boobs.
(Not even mentioning how dorky
she looked style-wise and personality-wise
in all her other google images
which I thought was rather kind
and strategically clever of me.)
She wrote back that she
didn’t like my decisions
about where to break my lines in my poems.
She never commented about
my novel and she quite understandably
ignored my big boobs remarks.
And that was the last
I ever heard from her.
I’ll tell you right now, though
it’s been over a year
since we emailed back and forth
and unless she sends some
full-frontal topless shots
(even black and white would be okay)
attached to a fawning email,
begging me to take her back,
I’m done.
Hey, a guy’s gotta have
some standards after all,
no matter how smokin’ hot
a “poetess” looks
in a snug
black singlet.
