Vulva Size Matters

greeting kailashana! thank you for your comments. i had a lot of fun writing this poem because it's really a taboo topic and i love pushing that taboo envelope. i wrote this poem in a busy coffeeshop where the coffee is pedestrian. nonetheless, i like parking myself in the midst of the murmuring and writing poetry and especially this poem -it was kind of a clandestine experience. many of the customers have seen me there many times but we never speak so they have no idea what i am thinking about and what i am doing. but, for your information, every age of vulva was represented in that establishment! ciao olya

dearest australian goddess, thank you for your comments. isn't it fun writing about sexual anything. it's so freedom endowing. aloha olya

gretings, kaligantsaros! thank you for your comments - especially reading a male's perspective. i think it is courageous of you. i think men and women are really at odds when it comes to sexual matters. so many aspects are unknown by either gender. i was thinking of writing about this topic for a while now. i felt it was important to use a balanced approach -- that men desire and women desire and that lust is an important aspect of love. afterall, objectification is the first aspect of seeing or meeting someone. that doesn't sound pretty, but is the automatic reflex. bonsoir olya

greetings, kailashana! thank you for your comments. women and girls are intensely deep, dark, mysterious beings. this has been my experience in life. Men and boys ponder these mysteries. adieu olya

gretings, ron graber! thank you for your comment. i was interested that you found this poem humourous. i certainly didn't approach that way. anyway, once a poem goes out into the world it is up for grabs as to meaning etc. thanks. olya

greetings, richard! thanks for parachuting into my neck of the woods. as always, i appreciate your comments. as i mentioned earlier (look up, way up), i enjoyed writing this piece and was spurred on by somekind of devil may care attitude. i never think about the kind of criticism i may acquire along the way - you just cannot make art that way. a few years ago i wrote a story called "bungalows of love" and it also stemmed from sitting in tim hortons (a different location, though) and that one was about my literal point of view when i sat in a certain chair. i could see a whole row of male crotches across the way and each one was different and somehow sad. my sister once read the piece at literary and tango event my friend, halia, and i had put together. after the reading, very many women came up to yaroslava (sister) to talk to her about it. it was interesting. my sister was thrilled with the attention she was getting and i was interested that this story impacted a decidedly female group of listeners.