Ash(ley) is a country-girl, romantic scum, pastoral eroticism poet. She’s genre fluid; and her style—she got it at Ross and stock shows. Her poetry as been put blished in Bullshit Lit’s Second Anthology, Tiny Spoon, Sage Cigarettes, and SWAMP.
Instagram: @c.ash_m
Twitter: @ash_m_c
Every time I get paid, I always go straight to the grocery store to buy new panties. Always thinking that they are going to fit me perfectly and I am going to look soooo sexy—like the models on the packages…always look so effortlessly mature, classy, wise… with their French Cut casual sex glamour.
But when I get home, it’s always the same. Polyester chaffing, loose elastic wedgie, poor fit sadness. Yet I can’t stop buying panties from the grocery store. I am hooked. So now, I turn my panties into canvases for words that share some lessons I learn or reflections I ponder while wearing them.
Fruit of the Loom Claim to Fame: Poliester Princess
These panties were worn when I finally fucked my hot crush and right when things were getting hot and heavy, he asked what I wanted… I said “Cómeme con los chones puestos. (Eat me with my panties on.)” and he said “mmmm que rico sabe el poliester. (Mmmm polyester is tasty.)”
Fruit of the Loom Health PSA: “COME FRUTA: para lograr una pH vaginal adecuado.” / “EAT FRUIT: To achieve a balanced vaginal pH.”
I wore these panties the second time I fucked my hot crush. And since I had been on a poor-poet diet of sardines and rice for a long time, I made sure to eat my fruits and veggies for a balanced pH… and less of a polyester, iron rich experience.
Fruit of the Loom Reality Check: I swore I’d never wear granny panties.
I remember the times I would see my mom in granny panties. She was maybe in her early thirties and I, a fashionable middle schooler who saved money for fancy panties at Ross. I always told my mom, “I will never wear granny panties when I get older.” And here I am now. Never say never.
Horror Sleaze Trash 