they don't build them like they used to

they don't build em

like they used to, the old man

says to me

on the park bench

while young women jog by

in their running

outfits, ponytails wagging

behind them.

when i was young, women

had hips.

women were bigger

and had pillows for

rear ends. they were like

lounge chairs you could sit on.

he takes another sip of his

liquor bottle,

hardly hidden

by the brown paper bag. 

another girl runs by, a skinny

blur in black tights.

whatever happened to breasts,

he says,  using his hands to

show me where breasts are

located.

remember breasts?

these broads got nothing

on the women of my day, he

says again. nothing.

what i wouldn't give to

see Marilyn Monroe 

slowly walk by in a pair

of high heels. whew.

hey, you want some of this, 

he hands me the bottle and i take

a long swig after wiping 

it on my shirt.