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  • Writer's pictureMarie Smysor Watson

My Kind

These are the things I think about during lazy summer days, namely how lucky my boys are! Enjoy this short poem, my friends, without or without a shirt...


If I were a man

I would never

ever

wear a shirt.

Like never.

I would barely,

rarely wear pants.

Barefoot too,

plants would wither, die,

cry at my beefy beauty.

Hey cutie! the ladies would holler

Their cheap dollar store shades reflecting

what the Earth recognizes as good.

Could I? Should I?

You're damn straight I would.

But it's no good.

because I'm not a man.

Therefore, I must always plan

on a shirt lest the world

be burnt

by my condition.

Naked ambition

never, ever looks good on my kind.

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