mostly haikus by nick krefting

The Thong

In Blog on October 24, 2011 at 8:33 am

I wrote a poem yesterday when I saw a thong alone on a laundry table in my building’s laundry room. Enjoy.

A thong is on a table in the building where I live.
I see it and I wonder what attention I should give.
I do not want to stare, but then, it isn’t everyday
You see a stranger’s thong in such a normalizing way.

Was it left by careless error in its pink and crumbled state,
And would she be embarrassed if she realized its fate?
Is she sorting through her laundry, thinking “Fuck, where did it go?
Dammit, I just bought that thing not seven days ago.”

Or is it just some power trip, left there to be found?
Does she get off on leaving all her underwear around?
Maybe it’s all part of some big game she likes to play,
Set down there to brighten up her lover’s stressful day.

It’s been there for a half an hour, and I start to believe
This satin thong was planted there for someone just like me.
To provoke imagination and to find the beauty of
The little things in life that I don’t recognize enough.

I thank my unknown neighbor for the gift she had to give,
The thong that’s on a table in the building where I live.

  1. Why did you assume that it was a woman’s thong?

    • I didn’t want to try to fit “his or hers” or “he or she” into the meter of the poem.

      But seriously, I did actually think about that. Decided to be a chauvinist.

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