My son runs in the street.
Naked.
I made him.
He's just too young for clothes,
Too young for rules.
He cries with his arms,
Too young to know.

Neighbors turn their couches
As much as they can.
Their eyes follow his thighs,
Paying close attention to each flex.
He is my commercial.

06/03/2010

Author's Note: Upon discovering Strand.

Posted on 06/03/2010
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