This was posted to Instagram earlier. It is from a collection of three poems that were inspired in and around NYPL. The other poems will make it to the blog eventually.
There are glasshouses on fifth / at the 42nd parallel of steel and glass city / where outlined on cubes, legs wide apart, knees bent / size two pools like water around frames / drawn exceptionally tall/ If womansplaining were a thing in the subway / those pants would be flattering, even on a six //
The come hither look strung around the waist / of such that never knew to heave to labour / or breathe to love, fingers crooked into croziers of temptation / for the siren call of porcelain breasts, absent nipples //
Beneath sequinned brassieres there sits / quietly silent tissue pressured, to perfection / They watch blindly, plaid women / coursing the wind tunnels of a metal city / pronating in stupor or in sneakers / bludgeoned by demands of compression of amorphous glands / At the mammary press / there is one size for any cups there are //
This plasticine sex wears 34a or b / and is perplexed at pointy feet / aspiring to nowhere in patent leather brogues / for there aren’t any toes //