David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

Alice


I say this without a hint of malice
But I think of radishes
When I think of Alice,
Of cauliflower, of
Asparagus boiled
Of garlic cloves,
Of Non-Virgin oils,
Of bitter root,
And red pepper flakes;
Dating Alice
Was a mistake.

I also think of
Garter belts,
Of nylon stockings
And angry welts,
Of bra hooks tight
That won’t unlock,
Of angry words
And lips that mock;
Of camisoles
Torn at the strap,
Of lie down times
And hands that slap;

When I think of Alice
And her acne scars,
And her crooked teeth
Eating Snickers bar;
The scornful way
She’d stand and pose,
The fights we had
Taking off her clothes;
My word she had
A bitchin’ bod,
I swear her breasts
Were formed
Of God.’

Submitted: Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, June 12, 2013

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