profane and prodigious

marketplace,

there is one answer

for everything:

larger breasts.

If it cannot sell

on its own merits,

if it is deemed inferior

and rightfully ignored

by the masses

then put a pair

of big tits on it.

And if the tits

aren’t big enough,

make them bigger.

This is neither a great secret

nor insight

as endless

magazine covers

advertisements

television shows

and elective surgeries

demonstrate.

While I protest the smug

and callous exploitation

of the feminine divine

I privately take comfort in

the things beyond

the marketer’s avarice:

neither the

breathless beauty of a rose

nor the power and glory

of a symphony

needs augmentation.

Still

I confess my desire for

these little written toys

of mine

to reach out to you

and arrest your

point and click habit

just long enough

for you to see me

and say “well done.”

But I know the quality

of my product

and I know my competition

and if I could

I would put this poem

in a wet T-shirt.