And why not?
This poem was part of a series that was commissioned for a novel by Margaret Thomson Davis. I was asked to write a series of poems that charted the emotional and sexual growth of a young female art student. Poems that could be thread through the novel like journal entries by the young heroine. Initially, I threw my hands up in horror. As a man hurtling towards (coughs) middle age, what do I know about females in their teens? (In their adult years, for that matter)
Then I thought, ultimately, we all want the same things. Just different body parts, right? Anywho, this poem came in at the end of the series when our young artist got her shit together.
So, breathe. Get in the mindset. This is an entry in her journal the morning after ...