by Michelle DeRose
At not-yet one, he cannot toddle
but his baby thighs can yet befuddle.
At four, all crayon plots require shredding
and no legs may be revealed by leggings.
A woman’s toes? Oh, mercy me!
Two rows of cleavage, can’t you see?
A human knee, oh hold me back—
a frontal, bulbous, sexual attack!
They get desperate when we enforce the code
that won’t let decency erode.
Professor Emerita of English, Michelle DeRose has published over a hundred poems in various journals, including multiple times in The New Verse News.