POETRY

what lies beneath

I have a personal attachment to my underwear
each skivvy tighty whitey boxer brief
some are cut to ride real low never meant
to peek or show above my beltline
when I squat it’s not
that they are frilly or fruity fruit of the loom
just an everyday necessity hidden in my room
I face top-drawer trauma if my favorite pair
aren’t there when I dress to go cavorting out in the open air
I recheck the laundry hamper or inside the dryer door
while visions of them crumbled and forgotten on the floor behind a bathroom fixture or deep beneath my bed flood my head with horror
‘til I check the drawer once more
there they are! in hiding beside a twisted sock
I put them on right snappy forget my former shock
‘cuz “All is right now baby!” my comfort may be brief
it’s a minor idiosyncrasy not my only odd belief
I hide it from my girlfriend my therapist my priest
I only tell you now because I’m sick of all the shame
and so you will forgive me if I withhold my name

m. landers 03/06