Friday, February 6, 2009

The Uncircumsized

Folded pleats of silken clothe,
Folded flap, away from moth.

The Uncircumsized

Tucked rows of wrinkled leather,
Tucked cap, away from weather.

The Uncircumsized

Fold upon fold, tuck upon tuck.
The fleshy fabric cascades down
to cover one's duck.
Crease upon crease, prune upon prune.

A comfort for its owner to clean
and to swoon.

Creased crevices of gentle form
Creased, Creased, Folded, Tucked.

The innocence of an uncircumsized shawl collar


B-rad said...

...Disturbed. Disturbed and crying in my room, disturbed and broken in the hall.
Scared. Scared that you live two doors away, Scared of the things your mind conjures up....

So, when you read that to me in the hallway (sans pictures, I might add) I was rather disturbed. But now that I know you were talking about your sweater I am a little bit less...worried. But the images your poem brought up in my mind may never leave...gross...

Hannah said...

bahahahahahahahahahahahaha! I agree, with B-rad...definitely a little disturbing, but funny nontheless.

Crystal and Clint said...

YUCK YUCK YUCK!! I honestly feel violated!! Thats terrible!! YUCK YUCK YUCK!! :(

Celestyn H said...

there are no words to describe how i feel about this. i might hit you when i see you, but just one of those little "stop it" hits.

Lyndsay O said...

Little disturbing, but I liked it. Where do you come up with this stuff? I think it is awesome! GO LEE!

Blair Karren said...

Oh Lee, you are so random and very weird. I really wonder where you come up with this stuff. It is great for my enjoyment but so so strange!

Matt and Jenni said...

Sick. sick sick sick. You are such a perv, and I love you for it.

Martha said...


katrinanelson said...

Perfectly Lee. xoxo. said...

I just came across you and WILL write again. I'm at work and wanted to connect right away. LOVE the way you sound and come across. Born at home in the country = uc here. Sean Chandler West, Washington, DC.