Homage to an Unattractive Woman

The most unattractive woman I ever made love with –
I know you think that unkind –
had a seizure disorder and took dilantin,
but had a wonderful mind.
Her teeth were rotted,
she was short and quite plump,
had stubbly hairs on her face,
wore glasses, even in bed …
and bloomers.
 
Her hair was a mess,
her knees were knobby,
when she opened her mouth
saliva stuck to her upper and lower palate.

She was an English teacher
in love with poetry,
romanticism,
Bharati Mukherjee
and Alan Ginsburg
 
She even looked like Alan Ginsburg,
laughed like him,
turned in onto herself,
aware of who she was,
and how she appeared,
and the fact that she had you in bed
and was going to enjoy it.
 
She had slept with my best friend Henry,
who I also adored.
She even loved him,
as did I.
He was so handsome
so beat,
and just the right mixture of
longshoreman and literary intellectual.
I was clearly her second choice,
as well it should be.
 
Her mind was brilliant
Her hands were a mess
Her clothes were a mess
She was brutally honest
Lovely in her way
Especially naked.
 
Her courage was more daunting than Henry’s
who is still in hiding,
her thighs softer,
she made nicer noises,
and never belched
or maybe she did.
 
I don’t remember everyone I ever slept with,
but here’s to a beautiful woman I do remember,
her name, in truth, was Linda.

Bharati Mukherjee