I Haven’t Worn Pants Since 2001
Thanks to the womens’ bike designer, my skirt retains
its draped shape. My legs: bundled as a bunch, not wrapped
individually. Even my bathing suit has a skirt.
When I was a kid, I climbed the jungle gym in a dress.
Another kid: “Little Girl, I can see your underwear.”
I must monitor my underwear, the wind billows skirts.
I grip my skirtsides, put on two skirts to compensate. No matter
how many I put on, I still have the same problem.
My legs need a chaperon.
Men upgraded the mirrors on their shoes to tiny cameras.
An up-skirt pervert, Oliver Clothesoff, tried to get my underwear
to sign a release to act in its own internet video.
I see posters of my underskirt around town. My underskirt
has a fan page on the internet.
I agree to swing dance so my underskirt can star
in its own musical–it twirls, and I join in. This time,
when it catches on air, we both float.
Valerie Loveland is the author of Reanimated, Somehow (Scrambler Books, 2009). Her poetry has been featured in Dzanc Book’s anthology Best of the Web, and the Massachusetts Poetry Festival. She enjoys running, audio poetry, and open courseware. The above poem first appeared in The Scrambler.
Allison Goldin is an artist living in Cambridge. Her work is a collection of spontaneous drawings from the imagination. The most common link throughout her art are the semi-recognizable creatures scattered amongst and bringing together the surrounding doodles. She is currently studying Illustration at The School of Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.
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