Learn More

Terry Collett


Bramshaw and Brassieres


Even as a child
Bramshaw was obsessed
With brassieres;
He liked the shape
And bright colours;
He liked to imagine
Them filled with firm flesh,
Warm and motherly.

When he got older
He'd steal them
From neighbouring
Washing lines, stuff them
Beneath his coat
And put them
In the top drawer
Of his dresser along
With porn magazines,
French cigarettes
And photographs
Of Bridgett Bardot.

He liked to imagine
The women who filled them;
Liked to rub them
Against his cheek;
Liked to sniff them
For scent or sweat,
But all he got
Was detergent
And the smell of soap
And warm fresh air.

Later he got
To put them on,
Sizing them up,
Feeling them
Against his chest,
Fixing them from behind
With his fingers
Almost breaking his arms
In the process, he'd walk
Around his apartment
With just the brassiere,
Swaying his hips
And sticking out his
Imaginary breast,
Pretending he got
Wolf whistles
From loud guys
On building sites;
Imagined he got the stare
From the guy downstairs
With the blonde hair
And large blue eyes.

Once he bought a pair in blue,
The correct size saying
They were for his wife Lou,
And the girl was all helpful,
All information; pointing out
The this and that of brassieres;
And all the time he was gazing
At her breasts, wondering
What colour she had, what size;
And only after that was done
Did he gaze into her eyes,
Into the window of her soul,
And saw small demons
Laughing at him
From each dark hole.

Submitted: Thursday, March 21, 2013
Edited: Friday, March 22, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Bramshaw and Brassieres by Terry Collett )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  2. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  3. If, Rudyard Kipling
  4. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  5. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  6. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  7. The Tiger, William Blake
  8. Alone With Everybody, Charles Bukowski
  9. As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
  10. I Am the Only Being Whose Doom, Emily Jane Brontë

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Jane Brontë

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
...... Read complete »

   

New Poems

  1. I will always return, Jessica Paige Davies
  2. They are my horses, Jessica Paige Davies
  3. HOW THEY ALL FALL, Terry Collett
  4. Caucus at the Parking Meter, Donal Mahoney
  5. A Small Something, Jessica Paige Davies
  6. Shrouded, Jessica Paige Davies
  7. I Live, Tanja Henderson
  8. This year, maryline vautravers
  9. Friends, maryline vautravers
  10. Cuba…..God's Betrayal……….Perhaps, James B. Earley
[Hata Bildir]