The great thing about 2014 for a woman is all those boy/men with their abs and their T shirts off. When I was 20, it just didn’t happen, there wasn’t this overriding culture of body perfection that we have around us now. Not that my younger boy friends have all been bench pressers, far from it. As stated in my last article it’s usually all about connection and what’s in their brain, as well as the rest of the package. Like every woman I’m a sea of contradictions of the sacred and the profane, yin and yang, light and dark, and as an artist I dwell most of the time in the hinterland of possibility, which has its good and bad side.
Being a poet I’m always waiting for a little bit of inspiration and men up ladders or on building sites always manage to provide it for me. In the bad old days it was like walking the plank walking down the street dodging the wolf whistles and cat calls, now I still get the whistles but the comments are more polite and here is a poem of what I really think about the best bodied boys of them all.
The Scaffolder
It must be all those steel poles
screwing them into place,
staring into bedroom windows
that’s given you that body;
with its hefty grace
and I never saw such blue eyes
a stare so magnified,
that, ‘come and get me’ languor
it moves me like riptide.
Yes, it must be all those steel poles
screwed into perfect place
that gives you feline power
a ‘come and f**k me’ look upon your face
I want to lie and watch you
unpeel your dusty clothes,
and I want to run my fingers
from your navel to your toes.
Yes, I don’t think I’m the first one
nor will I be the last,
to watch those muscles ripple,
imagine for an hour,
what I’d do with your six pack body
unhinge your empty mind
Yes it must be all those steel poles
screwed into perfect place
that gives you all men’s power
a ‘come and f**k me’ look upon your face.
Victoria Mosley is a poet, novelist and spoken word artist. For more from Victoria, check out The Red Dragon Bed, one of eight novels she has published.
