How I would love to include a survey with my poems! Do you or do you not?! If you are interested in my process a bit, I also revised my poem from last week. I felt it wasn't done, but ran out of time and adding a final stanza communicated best what I really am ready for at 48! The link to it should be under this week's poem. Hugs!

When A Man Saw Me Sniff My Armpit

He was waiting for a bus
and I zipped by in my car,
having done a quick errand
after running.
I must admit I love
the odor sometimes,
like today after a sweaty run,
my face, neck and lower back
slicked with it.

It pleases me he noticed
and I hope he scratched
his behind in turn.
I want to see a woman
on the street
dig her panties out of her crack
and a man adjust his testicles.

Perhaps once home
he will lift his partner’s arm
or don tennis shoes,
eager for his body’s own
skunky scent.

I love how kids’ fingers
smell like their privates half the time
and they lick the snot off
their upper lip.
I forget when we stopped,
perhaps when we also
stopped dancing.