Tattoos I have noticed...with a poem about a tattooed girl...
A friend noted that tattoos of original intent have bloomed, the one he referred to was a single word tattoo that became a book. The single word, a different one each time, was put (are tattoos put?) on a different body of a different person until in their totality they made a book. In other words, one word per person until the whole book was done. Of course, this sounds hard to believe, but he is a very credible individual.
My experience with tattoos I have noticed, and met mostly, have been introduced to me by younger people of a younger generation. The two most recent: One by a young man who was telling me he wants to open a body shop (for cars), and talked about cars and custom stuff. Then he asked if I would like to see his tattoo. I said, yes. On his chest, above his heart was, "I love Chevrolet." Here was a love affair for cars. The second one that I've seen recently was on a young man who worked at Starbucks. He had a kind of cloth band around his arm, and I asked one morning, "What's under it?" He said, "A tattoo," which he'd covered because Starbuck policy does not allow employees to show their tattoos. Too aboriginal, I suppose. His is of a woman with something like "Love" under it.
But the best set of tattoos, of the aboriginal kind, were on a young woman at a college I attended to get some credits out of the way which I had missed somehow and wanted to add, partially for the sake of taking the class in biology. I was smitten with this young woman and her tattoos, surprised at the fierceness of the generation and the very stylish and fashionable nature of the designs she had on her skin. Recently, I saw an old woman from Egypt, who though all covered up, had tattoo marks on what was observable. I think that this coed's tattoos were beauty marks. They worked for her. Here is that poem from what is almost six full years ago.
Black Haired Page Boy, Classmate
by Peter Menkin
The classmate co-ed
in biology lived with
tattoos, decorating young narrow
Ankles, shoulder blades
(delicately exposed), with
sleeves rolled up showing
permanent (fashion marks)
along flesh meat sized
forearms, also of white
skin, as alibaster.
We meet one generation
Apart; you so wildly strong
recalls a body statement
your collective mind envelopes
Saying we are new spirit,
Come harken to us man-woman.
Turning your head the during lecture
on biology, I thought:
Is of monkeys, gorillas, genes,
DNA of man;
we enter more to brave world.
You show millenium fever.
Monday, August 28, 2000
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