Don’t Stop Until You’re Proud

Think of me in your masturbatory fantasies.
I’m your manic, pixie dream girl
Who sucks your cock like a porn star.

I deep throat your package until I struggle for breath, however, I ensure my saliva properly coats your cock.

I’m generous enough to cradle your balls in my cheeks and feel them swell with the best prize 
I suck and fondle until you breathlessly beg me to sit on your erect throne.

I sit on my throne adorned in submission and jewels from you. You gaze up and I, I, I rock my hips and fuck, we’re more synchronized than Olympic swimmers.

With your hard cock inside of me, I bend backwards, careful not to release you from my vice, and allow your greedy fingers to stimulate my clit. I moan in delight. 

You’re becoming easier to ride. 

You push me off – eagerly wanting to experience me from a different perspective – and I happily oblige. 

Put my legs on your strong shoulders as your broad cock splits me open. I’m gushing like the Niagara Falls. Can you feel how wet I am? Grab my ankles – your hands are the best chains – throw away the lock and key – I’m all yours, no takebacks, my dear! 

Oh! 
God! 
Yes! 
Please don’t stop! 
I can feel your orgasm building and I’m chasing the high. I’m moaning in pleasure and begging to be used. We’re close to being one. You’re so close I can feel- 

Post sex orgasms ripple throughout our intertwined bodies. 

Sonnet for Suzie

I never listen to audio guides at exhibitions 
Come here darling lemme lick your armpits
I’ll rejoice in the Venus tummy 
in peak vampirism     
in staying golden 
Didn’t you say your parents met at Skowhegan? 
Glitter, cat toys, spare umbrella 
parts, the war is never over
and your vertical hair 
has me thinking of Hong Kong Garden
and Margaret Thatcher 
and the time I took a piss in a Grecian urn 
because it’s all just a complex exploration 
Of Beauty.

Out There in the Crumbling Day

The world was never ours
and getting less so all the time,

but we never much cared
for it anyway.

Leave us our little room,
some music and booze,

we’ll be okay.

The other losers out there in the crumbling day
are no longer our concern,

just leave us our little bit of scrapheap beauty,

our little makeshift world
and an eternity to fuck around inside of it.

It’s not much to ask,
we’re not hurting anyone.

Outside there’s fire and the endings of things

but we’re good as we turn the record over
and open another bottle, 

laughing about something
you wouldn’t understand.

nurse jackyl

bet you thought you knew who she was 
but she is a barbarian
now that you come to weep on her rug
and pay for the privilege
she will sew buttons to your living skin
and sing you a lullaby
get full marks for trying it on
if it ends in gratuity
stuffs your turkey tummy all by hand
and smiles like an alien
bet you thought that tuna was fresh
but it glowered like sodium
made you a poser for a new york mag
but you got your stigmata
lay golden eggs in the palm of her hand
from your golden cloaca
still got things to do with your life
let her give you salvation

hand on thigh

a group of fiction writers
invited me the poet
out to drinks
I didnt know them but accepted
my eye on the woman
who/d actually asked—
tall
short brown hair
dressed like me
black jeans black t-shirt
she ended up next to me
in one of the booths
at the White Horse Tavern
big enough for all six of us

I dont normally ever know
if a woman is interested
but her hand on my thigh
the whole time
gave me the courage
at the end of the night
to ask for her number
which she gave

that was tuesday
I called the next night
asked her out on friday
which she accepted
we talked a bit
about Michigan and Minnesota

friday I went to her place
lower east side
she looked good
I told her so—
red silk blouse
tight black miniskirt
high heel leather boots
and
my weakness
dark shiny hosiery

I kissed her right there
or
we kissed
or
she kissed back
before saying we should go
to a quiet place she knew
where we sat at the bar
talked for an hour + a half
my hand resting on her thigh this time
sometimes running from her knee
up to her skirt hem
maybe a little furthur
talking about writers + writing
New York
music
I was enchanted—
finally the literary Manhattan romance
I/d always imagined

walked her home
kissed her once out on the street
watched her walk up the stairs
to the building door

she called the next day
angry
at how I/d kissed her
at the start of the night
how I/d been touching her legs
how that was inappropriate

I apologized
said I thought she liked it
she said she didnt
hung up
+ my life went
back to 
normal

Für Elise

When I wanted to I couldn’t 
I hung a rope inna closet like the Kung Fu guy
I turned onna oven but the element just got too damn hot
scorched my neck
Syvia P had more guts than me

When I had to, when I needed to
wasn’t no high enuf bridge
wasn’t no deep enough hole
wasn’t no snake-bit carny tent

Before my sis got took
she used to practice Für Elise
onna Casio ToneBank
I shoulda done it back then, maybe 
I wouldn’t a lost her forever
that way-

to some de Sade wannabe
driving a white deadbeat van
to the DMZ
to the UAE

say I had a wish, into a fucking tree

There’s a War on, You Know

There are armies all around 
and they are searching 
for you. 
They wish to kill you 
and your family, 
after first raping your wife, 
your children. 
Everyone will be tortured, of course. 
They will slaughter your pets for food,
burn your books, 
shit on great works of art. 
They don’t give a fuck. 
There are soldiers in the shadows 
and in plain sight. 
Each one has it in for you, personally, 
though you could be anyone. 
They want your mind, 
if they can get it. 
Obedience and true belief 
can buy you time. 
You might get used to it 
and fall in love with the terror. 
Feel free to do nothing, of course. 
That is your right. 
Feel free to watch television 
and cook hamburgers in your yard. 
The armies are often slow 
and might not even get to you 
before cancer or heart attack. 
Grab a beer or master a weapon. 
It’s up to you. 
Talk it over with your loved ones.
Make the bargains your soul can bear.

I Could Not Exist

I could not exist even though the night 
was peering through the window.
The sky was glass, and if it broke,
those tender organs blooming in the dark
would not exist. The snow covered the buildings,
and I was on the verge of effervescent dreams,
which illuminated every pore of the sky.
But I kept repeating …
I could not exist, could not exist …

Zerotica

Zeros hit my cock
ring and I bulge
feel all faint too
sweaty my heart skips

Pixelated tips and piss
ran dry on Wall
Street burning for hits 
I’m rope tied up

Someone echoes dark light
licks lips flips switch
moaning into no thing 
locks key endless repeat

Mechanical buzzing
whirring ding light up
going in out gasp
bank big no asphyxia

What I Saw In the Rabbit Pen

In Torregalindo, Burgos
With a half-ruined castle
There lived an honest family
With two daughters
Both young and of marriageable age
Who looked after the chickens
The pigs and the rabbits
As was necessary.
They sold the animals
Not long after they were born
To the people of the village and other places
Cheaper than in the shops.
One day, a friend of my brother-in-law
Who was courting the youngest daughter
Encouraged me to go visit them
Because he wanted to buy a rabbit
Since her mother was asking for one
As a whim being newly pregnant.
We went to their beautiful village house
We greeted her parents and daughters
And the youngest took us to the rabbit hutch
And just as we were about to pick up the most prized rabbit
She bent down and showed us her privates
For she wasn’t wearing panties.
My friend, since she was his girlfriend
didn’t even flinch
Didn’t say a word.
But I was stunned
Because I’d never seen such a thing.
Since the few times I’d had sex
I did it in the dark, not knowing if it was white or black
Or what the creature looked like.
But the worst part was—what cruelty!
When the young woman grabbed the rabbit by the neck
So it couldn’t breathe or scream
Not before hanging it by its hind legs
On a crossbar in the hutch.
And, alive as it was
With a kitchen knife she gouged out its eyes
Because she says that way the rabbit bleeds better
And stays more tender for cookig.
-Take this rabbit, the tenderest one in the hutch
the girlfriend told him. 
You’ll pay me when I come to your house
To say hello to my future mother-in-law.
And when they go to sleep
I’ll make you a delicious dinner with mine’s.
When we left the village
He very happy, and me  very hurt
Because of the death his girlfriend had inflicted on the rabbit
As we walked towards the next village
Moradillo de Roa, five kilometers away
I kept telling him:
-Be careful, friend, when you have sex with her
Because when you’re in the sweetest part of orgasm
Begging for her sweetest kisses
She’ll gouge your eyes out
While you’re biting her lips, shouting:
-I don’t want a rabbit for the wedding anymore!