standing a massive 220 feet 7 inches
with skin painted with neutrals
yet his lively essence shines through.
His perfectly parted hair
seems styled by the fiercest queer in the Village,
his scowl a signature look stolen
from disapproving Italian mothers,
a pectoral muscle so daunting
his own name cannot hold it back.
But all fall as minor characters,
yes even his airbrushed abs,
to what lies behind the "sensibly" priced trunks.
That mysterious sheath that protrudes for all to see,
slaying straight lady and gay lad alike.
Or so Hennes and Mauritz believe.
In actuality, not even a stray cat wishes to approach
the restricted member.
Mothers guard their own eyes before their children's,
a true travesty indeed.
Who to blame:
the painters or anatomy?
All that holds true
is the yearning for next season's substitute.
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