attractive

The teen years arrive
The machine of societal feedback begins
Women didn’t flock my way

Two “girlfriends” in high school
A celibate month each
Very thin, with facial features in need of growing into
And acne once mistaken for chicken pox
Groucho’s view on clubs became mine on women…

“If only you knew the real me!”
My intelligence and humor, my qualities
that would make other men fade away
were soul laid bare…

(before we proceed further, dear reader, no suffering artist sighs will be rendered here…
for as long as i have memory, i knew my worth, my attractiveness
unquestionable and complete
never competitive
but peaceful
and true)

Later in life i would give some women a bit of hell
For being shallowly attracted to me
Just as most had been once shallowly unattracted

And still i knew, even at my worst
I was never flat-out ugly
For the age of 32 was where i set my sights
That amazing age, when my looks and i would come together

But teen insecurity is a powerful thing, and at 16
Unwilling to accept a world in which i was the only one
who understood how attractive i was
I played God with myself

I attacked life with an enthusiasm that took a backseat to none
Became a vegetarian, weight-lifting, no sugar/alcohol/caffeine fool
The last two being particularly easy, as i’d never been attracted to them anyway
In the drinking world, already an outsider
My transformation into one who lives on his own terms
made all the more complete…

College brought sex
And then a moment
During a community theater play, a party game
All the women compelled to acknowledge
Who among them found me attractive
By twos, and then ones, all hands went up
But wait, i wasn’t 32 yet!

A couple years later, a friend of mine, the handsome linebacker type
Gives me a playful whack because, for the first time in his life
Women were looking more at his sidekick than at he

And yet…i look at a photo
And it seems that my physical attractiveness was not at all a given
Only a product of which angle you look at me from…
Joanne one day tells me that i’m okay
But her other boarder Jeff, “oh wow”

Bonnie tells me that i should never doubt my attractiveness
But a little voice wonders why would she speak so
Unless doubt i might…

And a loving girfriend
Indicates that a brother is, just maybe, cuter?
Somewhere inside, my gentle soul bristles

All along, i stay true to that 15-year old
Who rejects this shallow world
Rejects in theory only?
No! (Or did i just overmuch protest?
Would the teen have refused, had the “beautiful” ones come knocking?)

Time moves on…
I find myself onstage
I’m called eye candy, and one girl in the booth
Admits that the nightly sight of the semi-clothed fight
between Ford and i, often provokes a moist response
I model, and artists love my naked self

Yet now and again, “you’re too thin!”
(from people who don’t see me naked, i disclaim)
Few people go forth with pure sight when they assess another
But sometimes people who genuinely love me, grouse about my thinness
I become just a bit sensitive
And ever-so occasionally lecture on the difference between skinny and thin
And if pressed, remind people that i’m lighter than the average man
yet stronger, swifter…

I look in the mirror
And it seems that with a few less pounds, i do flirt with skinny
And i’m 15 again…

Shelly says that some days she wants to eat me up
Other days, pheh…

I’ve long fancied that i have a healthy psyche, because of the near equal number
Of women i’ve desired in vain
and women who desired me in vain
But what a painful world
Especially for those with less unshakeable self-worth
Who?
You?

Now in a fourth decade, new to the big city
Still more concerned with being classy than looking classy
And the city is a curious, tiny revelation
Has the romantic wasteland of the past eight years
Fostered a tiny nugget of self-doubt?

In the Laundromat the beautiful eyes
Latina, Indian…
turn to me with smiles
On the subways, perhaps my happiness alone would make me stand out…
And yet one woman, without a word, gets off at the wrong stop
just so she can talk to me…
Another one that i’m trying not to stare at, gives me her phone number
Then runs for the closing doors…
But i’m still unsure whether i might answer
The modeling ads beckoning the “gorgeous ones”

The teenage boy screams “looks don’t matter!”
The man in his twenties debates shallowness in himself
The man in his thirties sits here tonight
And he knows the whys
And the wherefores
And above all, the pitfalls
And is content…

2004