Liquid Phobia

My roommate gave me
an ice cream sandwich
and a cherry Caprisun.

I guess that means
we’re bros now.

We’ll probably
start sharing
make-up tips
and bras
any day now.

Preferably
not vibrators
or tampons though.

Fluids other than
my own discharge down there
scare me. I suppose, that’s why
I make my boyfriend
wear a condom
and avoid oral sex.

 

-

April 23, 2014

Day 23 of NaPoWriMo

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Pigeon Superstition

I saw a pair of pigeons
fornicating on the concrete
in San Francisco.

I think they might have been into
BDSM, leathers and chains,
but they left before I could ask.

Bummer, cause
I wanted to write a poem about
how they did bondage with wings.

Then again,
they might’ve cursed me
if I’d asked,

made me infertile
or have my period
for seven years straight,

something like that
for all my impertinence
and bullshit.

-

April 23, 2014

Day 23 of NaPoWriMo

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What other esoteric ways do you think of your vagina?

In answer to your question,
I believe I’ll give her a name.

I was thinking Ophelia
till I remembered
she committed suicide
by falling into a river
while wrapped in flowers.

I’d prefer her to stay alive,
so perhaps another name,
maybe one I’ve never heard before.

I’d hate for my pussy to share a title
with a professor or prisoner of war,
cause she doesn’t quite have that type of personality.

She’s more of a writer
who would sit in the corner with a book,
drinking tea if she had a throat attached
to her lips.

For now, perhaps,
I’ll simply call her
Supreme Queen Overlord
or does that sound too much
like a McDonalds burger?

 

-

April 22, 2014

Day 22 of NaPoWriMo

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Period People

I wonder if there
are miners
in my vagina,

miniature women with beards
and pickaxes
mining menstrual fluid.

Do they cling to the tampons I use?
Dig their fingers into the cotton
and hang on like they’ve grabbed on to
a ladder on the side of a rocket ship
headed towards Earth Jr?

 

-

April 21, 2014

Day 21 of NaPoWriMo

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I wanted to lasso a meteor.

I cut my hair and started
braiding the dead strands
into a rope.

When I ran out of hair
I sat inside hair salon dumpsters,
intertwining abandoned
plastic broom bristles
and forlorn strands of hair
while reading high school science textbooks
on the personality of rock chunks in space.

I bought dog treats
to coax one
from its black hole home,
made a collar out of
junk drawer twine,

and studied rodeo videos
for six months
before writing
love poems to the sky.

 

-

April 20, 2014

Day 20 of NaPoWriMo

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If I had a son, I would teach him evolution.

I bled through
the crotch of my pants

and the Wonder Woman underwear
I bought two and a half years ago
on sale at Target

while eating
chocolate chip cookies
in my bed.

I put my hand between my thighs
to wipe away the blood
and realized, that
God had once again decided
to not put the embryo
of Jesus Junior in my womb,

Leaving me free to continue
reading blog posts
tagged atheism.

 

April 19, 2014

Day 19 of NaPoWriMo

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Intimacy Between Acnes

I’ve got a pimple
on the right side of my face

dripping creamy-colored puss
into the corner of my mouth,

pooling under my tongue
like vanilla pudding.

Every time I speak,
it splashes out

and dribbles down
my bottom lip

when my lover kisses me
it fills his mouth, his throat

suffocating all his words
till it crawls out his tear ducts.

I wipe his cupid’s bow
with Dollar Store paper towels,

leaving dry skin
for snot to sleep on.

-

Day 18 of NaPoWriMo

April 18, 2014

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