Sky blue with a bright white band.
I wear them only rarely,
And I wash them out by hand.
I guess when I was buying clothes,
There in the fitting rooms,
I picked Bill's pants up by mistake,
And he got my Fruit of the Looms.
Now, Bill had put his name on his.
I dropped the ball that time.
He was sure more proud of his underpants
Than I ever was of mine.
My pants must be quite loose on him.
He's svelte--he's got to be.
His underwear was not designed
For my rotundity.
I don't wear Bill's briefs when I go out
To walk around the square.
--Get hit by a truck and the world would think
That I wear blue underwear!
I fear to die in that attire,
And face my Maker's whim.
God would say, "You've got Bill's undies on!
Go give them back to him!"
Felicia, These Fish Are Delicious
(Topeka: Dancing Goat Press. 2004)