Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Our First Poem


My Breasts Have Fallen and They Can’t Get Up

So I poured them into my trusty C-Cup

My Bra is old, as am I

Don’t ask me what size, I’d only lie

The solution is simple, the answer is clear

I must do that thing that I most fear

I must go to the store and shop and compare

And buy a new bra, and perhaps underwear

Frederick and Victoria both make me tense

But I had a plan that seemed to make sense

I would go get a Playtex, the famous ‘Cross Your Heart’

Found in the middle of my local Wal-Mart

I saw bras in boxes, I saw bras on racks

With hooks in the fronts, the sides, and the backs

I breezed right past the cute and the flirty

And found the back section, for us over thirty

And in a dark corner, down by the floor

Were sizes for those weighing 150 or more

The selection was grim, the colors were bleak

But at least the elastic, it didn’t look weak

Canvas is used instead of black lace

Style, femininity, class – not a trace!

I saw four or five that maybe might fit

If I didn’t reach up, lean forward, or sit

There at the fitting room, about to go in

I was stopped by a clerk who was tired and grim

Her word is law, only three items at a time

Then get yourself dressed and get back into line

To try on the others; left (to my dismay)

Like a very cruel dieter’s incentive display

I try on the first one, miles of white

How can something so damn big be too tight?

The next is no better, the straps cut like knives

But at last with the third, a miracle arrives

It fits rather well; I can sit, I can breathe!

I’ll just buy it and then, Thank God, I can leave

But wait, what’s that tingle I’m starting to feel

In the fancy underwires – made of forged stainless steel?

It seems that the metal is picking up transmissions

From an AM station that plays music for Christians

I can feel it, I can hear it, as my bosom vibrates

To the sweet gentle notes of old Amazing Grace

I think I can live with this, I decide that it’s worth it

The music is minor, compared to the great fit

Then fate and the DJ deal a most heartless blow

The next song is loudly and clearly Swing Low

So I try on six more, then seven and eight

I cannot find one I don’t totally hate

The lesser of evils becomes my next goal

My God! This isn’t a cup, it’s a stiff ugly bowl

So here is the one I bought at long last

Now please excuse me, I’m going to get smashed

I deserve a drink, a smoke, and a lay

Because I went out and bought a bra today

PennyAnn Carmichael Wood©1999

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