i don't want to look like
aunt rosa's grandmother
who no longer wears
a bra
but a ***** sling
a holster
built strong enough
to keep boulders
from dropping out
the sky

every morning
she would
bend over and
pour herself a D cup
then
lock them tightly
on the third rail
and pray that the
2 convicts
didn't take flight
in the middle of
the day

i try to prevent
gravity from
stealing
the perkiness
my lover loves
every time i take a deep breath
and they point guiltily at him
but
no matter how much
support i've crossed
my heart with
gravity
pulls and stretches
my new bra
till the straps
tether  and my cups
runneth over
spilling onto
on to the reality
of the hard
cold floor