Ballerinas

POETRY

by Emily Joyce Cohen

Look at their skinny necks  

And their stout, fat bottoms 

At how they balance on their perch. 

Lined up like angelic dolls. 

Inside them, sweet ambrosia 

To make any man fall. 

From love? Disgust? 

It’s all subjective. 

How do you decide their worth? 

Rarity? The Orgasm Factor? 

Or will people buy piss 

If it’s in a Cristallo? 

It’s all wine to me 

I’ll pay top dollar 

To anyone who can bottle 

My baby blanket.