Something Secret Poem by Mark Heathcote
Something Secret
Why do the best legs stand on pins?
Is it something, genetic?
Something secret, they’re born to inherit.
All I know is my heart beats frantic.
It’s like balancing on a high wire
Across a suspension bridge
Watching these flamingos in duos…
With; airbag, steerage…
Of cause I’m sexist.
It isn’t easy being the slimmest.
The tallest the lewdest
The vaguest teenager in town…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 6:25:10 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
