I Could Be Interrogated For The Rest Of My Life Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Hey...
What can I say?
I am not without,
My own severe limitations.

If breasts do not sit on the chest,
As my fantasies expect them...
I could be interrogated for the rest of my life,
If shown a face picture of my ex-wives.

I would not remember who they were,
Standing next to me covered in street clothes.
But I could tell you...
Which one had those that bounced.
And who had the ones that perked,
As if perched.

And how you have described them,
I can tell you too have no clue.
They remain as far as I know...
Respectable women.
Unless time has changed their points of view.

I know I have memory lapses.
And I am sure some sagging has occurred,
On those two!
Time has a way of changing definition.