Loneliness in the Lingerie Department

Among the briefs and bras and basques,
Suspender belts and shoulder straps,
I’m one who looks but never asks
What buttons, hooks or tucks or flaps;
Near what conceals and what unmasks,
Near camisoles and body wraps,
I celebrate a poetry,
A litany of lingerie.
 
Among the panties, scanties, strings
Of cotton, satin, nylon, silk,
The brightly coloured underthings,
Red, black, skin-coloured, white as milk,
I amble down an aisle that brings
Me past no other of my ilk
And cherish, in this reverie,      
The loveliness of lingerie.
 
Among the teddies, tangas, thongs,
The female figure’s underlay,
Where fabric of the night belongs
(Let’s not neglect the negligee)
I sing these unaccustomed songs
And wonder should I pick and pay.
Who would have thought I’d ever be
Still lingering in lingerie.
 
License my roving eyes. They go
Past gussets, garters, cloth to fit
Above, beneath, between, below
Or underneath a well-placed slit
Which tries to hide and tries to show
What some would call “quite exquisite!”
Instead of mild debauchery
There’s liveliness in lingerie.
 
I buy, at last, a Poet’s Shirt
Of cotton cambric, ruffled lace,
With satin bow trim, simple, pert,
Elasticated cuffs (what grace!)
Romantic styling to assert
What compliments a model’s face.       
Yet give me human company.
There’s loneliness in lingerie.


Conor Kelly

If you have any comments on this poem, Conor Kelly would be pleased to hear from you.