David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

Poem in Praise of My Love's Second Toe

Oh sprightly bean
Disparaged Queen
Companion of
Four toes unseen
Your height
Makes you predominant,
Locale defines

What grace,
What flair,
Oh beauty’s lair,
A carapace
Beyond compare;
I embarrass you
When I stare;
Forgive this tongue
So ill-prepared
To do justice to
Your pale legume,
The toe of Venus
I presume;

Oh beauty’s toe
For length long scorned
By stubby ones
Their joints
Their nails misshaped
Their skin
You and
The public
So misinformed;

I kneel before
Your saintly toe,
I swear it’s bulb
Wears a halo;
Oh string bean toe
Once called obscene;
How you glow,
I faint, I dream;

I see myself
Beside your knuckle
And in my hand
A woven buckle
That I might ride
Your dazzling toe
And bask within
Its stepping glow;

Oh scorn me not
For this obsession,
Say not I need
One whose profession
Is slated up toward the head,
Oh leave me here,
I kneel and beg

And I will be
Your podiatrist
That I might touch
And softly twist,
That pale legume
Beyond compare
Who’s beauty so
Dispels despair;

Beside your feet
I’ll lay my couch
That I might peer
And humbly crouch;
To hold perfection
Before my eyes
And defend your beauty
From false allies.

Submitted: Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 24, 2013
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