Somatotypes

I'm trying something new. Although I added a feature on the sidebar, it messed up my formatting, so you will have to go all the way to the bottom to see - BillyBlog's word of the day, courtesy of The Free Dictionary.

In the past, friends of Billy would toss a word Billy's way and a poem would be created, courtesy of whatever the word would bring. This Sunday gives us our first word, somatotype. Here is the poem, and I make no claims that it is good or bad, but I hope it is at least interesting. Comments appreciated.



SOMATOTYPES

The somatotypes reveal themselves
in the heat.
It is an unveiling that makes me
curse Winter:
the unfurling of flesh,
pale at first, then reddening,
then bronzing-
the bodies peeling away layers
as the mercury rises.

The guilt lurks behind sunglasses,
eyes averted
(but not really),
my daughter approaching that age
where she will soon travel in packs
and wolves will leer
their statutory glances-

it is enough to drive a dad daffy:
the resentment toward others
yearning for days long gone,
when they were young and handsome,
and such taunting temptations
kept them up all night
throughout the summer,
tossing and turning,
trapped in an adolescent torture
it seemed would never end.

Copyright © 2006 William Dickenson Cohen.
All rights reserved.