It Happened. There Is No Avoiding It,

Why Not Draw Naked Guys, Just To Be Fair? Naked Women Is Art, Naked Guys A No-no, I Bet. Probably Because Most Painters Are Men.

He Doesn't See My Breasts Or My Waist Or My Hips. He Only Sees The Nightmare.

Used To Be That My Whole Body Was My Canvas-hot Cuts Licking My Ribs, Ladder Rungs Climbing My Arms, Thick Milkweed Stalks Shooting Up My Thighs.

This Camp Is A Forge For The Army; It's Testing Our Mettle. Instead Of Heat And Hammer, Our Trials Are Cold And Hunger. Question Is, What Are We Made Of?

I Look At My Homely Sketch. It Doesn't Need Anything. Even Through The River In My Eyes I Can See That. It Isn't Perfect And That Makes It Just Right.