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young lassies near and far
were subjected to looking
at his personal bar

he'd stage the exhibits
on mobile phone devices
all those groinal tid-bits

exposing his wares
in a devil may care way
of indecency to the eyes
he'd frequently flay

on a particular poetry forum
the fellow can be found
advertizing his kit bag
so unedifyingly around

a sixty year old man
would in time be
getting a nab
for putting out there
his wayward

somewhere inside
the Ohio state
law authorities
will pinpoint
the repugnant gate
Brent Kincaid Dec 2015
I dreamed I was at work
And everyone was naked but me.
A bunch of naked co-workers
As far as my eyes could see.
They were pointing at me laughing
The moment I walked through the door.
They behaved as they didn’t
Know was clothing was for.

Pointed at my chest area
Right were my ******* would be
And at my crotch as well
And asked me “How do you ***?
All of that material there.
It really must get in your way.
So, what’s the big idea
Why did you come to work that way?”

I mumbled and I stumbled
And bumbled my way to reply.
I told them I really didn’t quite
Understand all of why
They were all naked here, and
I was wearing a lot of clothes.
I finally told them all that
Sometimes this is how it goes.

They started laughing again
And one girl tried to make amends.
She said the pants I had on
Gave me a very cute rear end.
My face turned red, I said thanks.
And some said I was blushing.
I headed back to my desk, trying
Not to look like I was rushing.

I woke up still kind of giggling
And yet had a feeling of unease.
I remembered the embarrassment
Feeling being dressed was a disease.
Usually it’s the reverse, of course.
I am the one walking around bare.
But something in this dream that night
Helped me see some of the meaning there.

— The End —