I blame WCW
Billy Collins credits one
of WCW’s small poems for
giving him the key
to write his own lines.
I blame WCW’s confines,
of loving women, as he
wrote to adore
the young, the old,
the difficult to assess
ones, the odor of them
nude. What beauty means to them.
A Modigliani new laid breast. Fusses
they make with their hair, bold
up or hanging down over girlish all
that is perfect in women. His love
for them I inherited through his words.