Ode To My Butt In These Jeans

Thou are not , mine ass --

without buttress -- worthy

of praises high ; miracle

sublime ! What trick is

this ? Molded between

those fibers , black - jean ,

glory transpires ; ass trod

out , and shock the world :

juicilicious , taut , marble !

Who bequeathed our race

those holy , gilded cheeks ?

Immaculate folly , to wonder :

for who but Michelangelo

could wrought justice such ?

[Published in The Rainbow Cantos: Two Attempts At Queering The Canon]