A Poem by Rebecca Wolff

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Man Tits

Look at that pair,

on the one over there.
He’s young, skinny, low
muscle tone, poor, white, under-
educated . . . gazing
down
on a
path

in the little patch
of yard in front of his
unfavorably situated
rental where he stands, hands
on hips, mutable, conceivable
speculation on the next weekend
chore.

But his tits are the good
kind: fat, conical, pale against
the brown of his wife-beater tan,
nipples slightly shiny,
aureolated. Bouncy, native tits

like the ones you came to see.

Rebecca Wolff’s fourth collection of poems is One Morning — . from Wave Books. She is the founding editor of Fence and Fence books.

You will find more poems here. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.