Wednesday, November 24, 2010

I Was a Naked Man

I was a naked man,
running circuits around a booming piano,
painting my bedsheets with apple juice,
finding shells under the life guard tower,
with a naked woman.

Now I am a big boy,
and I wear clothes.
The clothes look great,
If I do say so myself,
But I miss the naked man.

1 comment:

  1. This is great! Clear, concise, surprising, and it wraps up so well.

    Usually when a poem has a last line that's the same as its title, it seems too cutesy to me. But in this case, it's surprising: the naked man I saw from the title turned out to be a little boy. It's unexpected, so it escapes feeling too matchy-matchy.

    I'm confused about who the naked woman is. It seems that she's mentioned, and then doesn't get addressed again or resolved. This is the only part of the poem that seems superfluous. Who is she? Why is she there?

    I love it!