You had one eye that crossed.
It was a Da Vinci touch.
To compensate for the loss
you favored it too much
as if you were pondering
the latest state of affairs.
Or staring at boys floundering
over the rest of your pairs.
But whole body’s a give-away.
When you squirmed in a chair
It was a solo, mad lady!
Come touch. Shut up! Don’t you dare!
To some parties you weren’t invited.
All the boys crowded around you.
But the left-over girls self-righted:
See my limbs! My eyes! Not her boo!
Then along came this tough scholar
He bucked half a chipped tooth
and bet his gang a dollar
he’d give Boo a smack for the truth.
He told her she was spectacular.
He knelt and knew himself.
But blubbered his lips with his finger
and sat on her lap like an elf.
Seventy years have gone by.
How could we ever see this?
You with that wonderstruck eye
wandering once more for bliss.