At 81, “in what some may consider the ultimate stroke of bravado, [Martha] Stewart appears on one of the four covers of the storied Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue…”
The ultimate stroke of bravado—
art fit for the Louvre or the Prado—
might come if the folks at SI
reconsidered their urge to supply
us with freakishly fab senior hotties.
Who needs a high priest of Pilates,
waxed smooth as a freshly peeled grape,
every pore in professional shape,
who’s been spray-tanned and shot full of filler
and starved of all foods that might thrill her
(the sort she instructs us to make,
like her “rich, creamy cheesecake… no-bake!”)?
What delight would it give us to waddle
by magazine racks where the model—
un-airbrushed from pupils to pits,
string-bikinied—was Fran Lebowitz?