Thursday, October 20, 2005

Digging Through the Mothballs.

Fellow Pussy Poet Janice threw it down on her blog, bravely posting her 12-year-old poem, "The New, Improved Girlfriend." I miss hearing that poem!

I take it as a dare. How else can I?

Mine's not as pride-worthy as hers, but it's still fun to dig through the mothballs of my memory. (Since this is seriously four computers ago and my brain's the only place it is stored.) Drumroll...here's my old pathetic lust-poem, practically old enough to vote. And I'm NOT reading this tonight at KGB.

indelible

i want to get under your skin
like your needle
fat with ink
that penetrates
in and again and again

and when you wipe your blood away you find
those pricks have intercoursed to lines

you and I are Celtic
carved in flesh of your bicep
arms and legs woven
under or over
or around or
inside out

arms and legs that don't fit
neatly into
prepositions
but fall square in their own design

a labyrinth of sins
where your skin ends
an mine begins

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