Poetry Sunday

One of the fads that I've never understood was "body art," or what we used to call in a simpler and more direct time "tattoos." I don't think a woman enhances her beauty by using her body as a canvas or by collecting piercings* that, for many girls, make them look as if they'd been assimilated by the Borg. Eventually, those colorful tattoos fade and droop and become sad memories** of times gone by.

Tattoo

by Ted Kooser

What once was meant to be a statement—

a dripping dagger held in the fist

of a shuddering heart—is now just a bruise

on a bony old shoulder, the spot

where vanity once punched him hard

and the ache lingered on. He looks like

someone you had to reckon with,

strong as a stallion, fast and ornery,

but on this chilly morning, as he walks

between the tables at a yard sale

with the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt

rolled up to show us who he was,

he is only another old man, picking up

broken tools and putting them back,

his heart gone soft and blue with stories.

Skip the tattoos and the piercings, ladies. You really don't need them, and you'll thank me someday.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* With apologies to Dethany Dendrobia, my favorite cartoon goth, and Abby Scuitto, the wonderful goth lab queen from NCIS. 

**Check out the great Jimmy Buffett song "Permanent Reminder of a Temporary Feeling" for a musical version of this idea.