Frankenstein And His Bride Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka

Living not far from Hollywood
I see a lot of women of every
possible description.

Size and color and international type.

Sauntering along the boulevard
by the same name I gawk
at undulating rumps
under leopard skins, miniskirts and
carnival accoutrement.

There's something carnal about
their déhanchement.

Some young ones
hop in front of me
and upon turning
their heads backward
they look at each other
if not at me
and start giggling.

Others tall as Amazons
and voluptuous with long
golden hair
when they turn around
is like watching
vintage movies.

From the rear they look
twenty something.

From the front
ninety something.

I wonder if they look at me
the same way I look at them.

The only way to check
is to give them
a bath and a spin
in the clothes dryer
before taking them to bed
and pray they don't remove
their dental plates or worse
their front and
rear end falsies.