A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Thursday, January 07, 2021

one's body type

I think really an inner something something 
that beams out in your posture and gesture, slouch
and sway can redeem an otherwise not-one's-body type
pretty easy. I mean, rail-thin scarecrow looking dudes?

In general, perhaps not. As a corpse on a slab, no. Unattractive
some might say. But jolted to electrochemistry magnetism
by inner swag, grace of ease and a certain cool disdain
of the eminently disdainable - say, Jarvis Cocker circa
first solo album? Damn. That man shook his SWEAT

on me and the whole couple front rows
and I mistook it for holy water!
I wasn't even a fan
when I walked in. That dude

is the definition of the transcendence of one's body type, 
in term of another's typical druthers. If any! Some don't 
prefer. Most do prefer some. Pardon the borderline
homoerotic idolatry of Cocker, but there it is.

I've met a large number of people whose confidence
was the sexiest thing about them.

In some cases,
there wasn't anything
to "overcome," particularly, 

but in others, 
the overcoming 
was effortless.

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