it was really a strange choice
you made this morning to go
with just a t-shirt and no pants.
There are not many of us who
can pull that kind of thing off.
There are not many of us who
are bold enough to just let it all hang
out in the breeze, like you, and still
maintain such a calm and easy
demeanor.
You are a dirty dog, Pooh Bear,
look at you all sexual in that honey pot.
Is it true that everything tastes better
without pants? Of course it is.
What could be any sweeter
than that oozing of almost
sticky honey across
your fingertips to
your tongue painting
your throat down to
the palace of your teddy
belly – which is surely golden
by now, you silly old bear!
Your insides must be like porn
for a king, the likes of Midas!
You have lived fancy
in your decisions,
and I understand only now,
seeing you, all alone,
in the middle of this grey
afternoon sitting on top of a branch
that is just strong enough to hold
your tiny weight, that you have
figured out what life is. And
what life is is no pants and
a red t-shirt.
The clouds are bunching in the beyond, and
Oh! It has begun to Rain!
This is a reprint of work originally published on The Best American Poetry blog.
Detroit writer and poet Ian Brown currently resides in New York City where he is receiving an MFA in poetry from the New School. Author of 3 chap books and recipient of the 2009 Jim Cash Award in Poetry, his work can be found in such places as PANK Magazine and the Best American Poetry blog.
Wow–who knew Pooh could be so–sexual?