Stripped Down: A Poem About Bodies, Nudity, and Acceptance

There are no atheists in a foxhole
Neither are there many nudists in the loony bin
He said
He used to be so ashamed of his body. Long and thin. Almost feminine.
The parents took him to France and a natural beach
Taking in the bodies, it dawned on him, all bodies are kind of just weird
even the beautiful, better-than-his ones are lumpy or hairy or too hard and too soft in places where it should be the opposite,
His wife handed me a bowl of pasta, broccoli, and kielbasa…
Her husband bent over to grab me a beer
I now knew both of their intimate bits more than some women I’ve dated,
which feels like an endorsement of the couple’s lifestyle,
Slicing into my sausage and looking at the backside of his, her breasts a few inches from my face, her hand patting my bare back and asking me if I wanted any pie for dessert, I smirked, couldn’t help it,
We’re aware the nakedness can lead to pretty funny moments, you don’t lose your sense of humor when you take off your clothes
A little uncomfortable too
At first
Sexual less often than the clothed world
With my work as a psychiatrist, she said, I was drawn to an environment that removed shame
Think about how disgusting it is to put a little girl in a bikini,
to assume sexualization and, in doing so, create it
Anger, resentment, violence, hate, neurotic behavior of all sorts, so many of the worst cases I’ve seen are rooted in the way we treat our bodies,
relationships between men and women,
We’re not nudists, we’re naturists
It’s not natural to be ashamed of your body.
Pie sounds pretty good, actually,
I’ll grab you a piece, it’s cherry

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