The Forgotten Challenge….

A few years ago I wrote this little number for my Writers Group. However, with chronic CRS,  I can’t remember why.  Sometimes we give ourselves a challenge to write something for fun.  I just can’t remember why or how I got this as my challenge.  Guess I’m lucky that way.  So, since it is NaPoWriMo, I thought I’d sneak it in here even if it’s not technically “poetry”.  I haven’t titled it;  it is just a quick, fun little thing from a while back.

A rite of passage
One symbol of coming of age
The first foray into the mind-boggling world of

14th century BC Minoan athletes had them
As did queens from the Qing Dynasty
French sophisticates helped coin the word that
has been almost universally shortened to

But history’s budding beauties were not faced with
bewildering arrays of styles, shapes, colors, fabrics, and fasteners
all designed to support, conceal, enhance, compress, Cross Your Heart,
Lift and Separate, increase your cleavage, reduce your sagging,
empty your wallet, and hook-and-eye you into a torturing

No longer limited to the cone, the bullet, the torpedo,
today’s delicate little flower must choose from
padded, lined, underwire, wireless,
long-line, halter, convertible, plunging,
strapless, backless, strapless-backless, racerback,
seamless, cupless, demi-cup, push-up, balconette,
training, invisible, athletic, and
the bro?

Children of the children of the hippie generation,
no protesting, bra-burning feminist followers of Germaine Greer here,
free to choose, free to be encased in lace,
tricked out in tricot, and bound in bustiers,
thanks to the lawless, thanks to
the braless

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