Categories
poem theory

dirty limerick

I heard a dirty limerick on a Parliament-Funkadelic recording.  Can I tell it to you? There once was a man in Peru who was dozing in his canoe. He started thinking of Venus and pulled out his penis: woke up with a hand full of goo. I’m not sure I have that quite right, but

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poem theory

reasons I’m saying no

I can only be close to people who like to communicate. I can’t afford to be abused. I’m crazy disabled and need my resources for myself. my mom didn’t form my body in her body to be harmed. my mom told me to get the fuck away from him. my body isn’t his to use.

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Categories
poem ritual smut

offering

the second time I was invited to bed with you, beautiful sacred man I believed was God visiting to bless my body, I would have touched your hips, peeling down the band of your chonies to know the bony articulating handholds and memorize them. I would have sniffed your chest and pet slower the brown

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poem

addict

he’s the kind of guy who takes a bunch of naked pictures interspersed with not-naked pictures  and wants to show you not-naked pictures, but you accidentally see some unexpected dick. he’s the kind of guy who reads difficult books because his head craves exciting brilliant difference. he’s the kind of guy who needs to sedate

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poem

sex as healing

sex as healing the bold head and matching wings form a plump wishbone shape I would lick until you shake. please rest in the joy of my care, then come on my tongue and learn my name in the depths of your contracting vulva. you gave everything to many loves who half-understood and blamed you

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poem theory

what’s relationship

a previous, much shorter version of this was published in July 2020–I greatly expanded it, so here is is anew. i used to think relationships were made of words, all language.  then i decided words are just little poop pellets that relationship leaves behind–mostly worthless evidence.  then i thought relationships were soul level connection.  like

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poem

beam

That was the moment I would have touched your hand or asked if I could kiss you. We both wore pretty dresses, brick red and pink. I wanted to learn everything about your life north: splitting wood in your free time, community conflict, living in an RV. You said I was a role model of

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poem

how I find it

I was happy to learn that my poem “how I find it” published in BiWomen Quarterly is on their blog.  Happy to have a poem in this magazine, and share my world view and love-philosophy with bisexual women and all people. I read my poem in the big pdf of their newsletter.  But I enjoy

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poem

golden rabbit

This poem “golden rabbit” is about open relationship and whether we admit that we’re free. golden rabbit Every relationship is an open relationship. It’s a matter of whether you admit you are free. Old friend was standing in the kitchen– I was wearing that yellow dress men get excited by. He looked at me, and

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Categories
poem

where does it hurt?

it hurts where I notice you can’t do the thing I thought we were doing. I was spinning straw into gold. you were talking about it. but as I sat at the wheel in the straw-stuffed room, for hot hours  whispering my spell, exhausted with mythical effort and magic work, you were fucking a convenient

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