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Ordinarily, I'd never put a poem up. I don't think this one's ever going somewhere, so here it is.

women by Peter Holby 12/28/02

I.

"We go back to the service station and check out the girlie magazines while waiting for the service man to come. The naked woman pictures cause great pain, and a feeling of unrest, and other vile, pathetic states. I switch to motorcycle magazines." -Henry Rollins

Usually, at work, I read magazines on my break.
I read the (ahem) "men's" magazines,
where every few pages there's another woman
in her underwear, or other scant attire,
her lips glossy, her mouth open,
her hair tussled by the off camera fan,
and her imperfections airbrushed into oblivion
by the off-camera graphic designer.
Today, Maxim released their much-anticipated issue
with a cover article (ahem) on Christina Aguilera.
It was billed as "Maxim's steamiest photo shoot ever."
Her large breasts and shiny skin on the cover scared me,
so on my break I read Pride and Prejudice.

II.
It is always the smell that gets me.
That smell, faintly of flowers,
faintly of something that you can't quite put your finger on
Or the curves, back and forth,
or the little zippers and buttons on a pair of jeans.
But it's always the smell,
so in math class, when the lotion gets passed around,
I sit back, reveling in hormones,
certain that no work would get done anyway.