Bugsies

piddily little
squirmy little
bugsies

they crawl right in
they crawl right out
bugsies

the words she says
that rot your mind
bugsies

the pain that mother
feels inside
bugsies

the white joy in
her father's smack
bugsies

the pleasure felt
at the whips crack
bugsies

piddily little
squirmy little
bugsies

they are the tools
to make the fools
that keep on begging for
more bugsies

Across a Room

you thrust yourself
inside me, deeply
with your eyes
stopitstopit
you blink and look away
and i am left
unsatisfied
unsated

you pin me down by
wrists and thighs
with your touch
stopitstopit
then you touch her again
and i am left
unqualified
renauseated

i would that you would
thrust and pin
or at least kiss
or speak those words
damnitdamnit
fucked her--
she is who
gave you my first kiss

you bite my neck, hard
and leave a mark
with your words
stopitstopit
you hang up the phone
and i am left
ungracious
unrequited




*note: this is another really old poem*

Attacked

Cry HAVOC! and let slip
the seeds of our oppression
the ageless folly of our thoughts
that seem to eternally date us
as 15, 17, 19, but never never
forever 21.
is it wrong to think of me
as immature
as worldly pure,
but yet consider me
someone worth emulating
if only
if only
in my moments of

be brevity the soul of wit,
then i would keep this short and sour
but my soul cries out
to be unfettered
unmolested by the ideas of
the 15, 17, 19's of this world
who'll ne'er be 21
is it right to think of me
as impure
as too mature
as someone worth defeating
if only
if only
in my moments of

facetious poetry and prose?












*note: this is a poem from several years ago...:-)*

Lessons from (some) Feminists

Men are stupid, boorish brutes
no delicacy, no tenderness!
All they think is sex and violence
and leave their children wanting.

Don't argue me!
I am WOMAN!
A thousand years of torment
have given me the reason,
nay, the RIGHT!
to so batter and abuse them

And if they call me frail, or weak
I'll beat them where they stand.
Because until I've hurt them all
I alone have the genetic right to stand.

(Apparently.)

Fear and Loathing

I am afraid
That women are less intelligent
That men are incapable of monogamy

That my desire to be smacked and bit
is not sex, but pure psychology

I am afraid
That women are destined to bear
and men are meant to protect

That the things that so define me
are lies that I choose to believe

But my deepest, darkest terror
is that when tomorrow comes
a man won't need me anymore

That makes me weak, I guess.
But then again, they always told me
I am the weaker sex

2001, a Place Oddessy

We are the generation that watches planes with trepidation.
We look for powder in our mail and crazy bovine in a burger

And because we never lived before, we think we know the horrors of war

The blog is not the pinnacle of human interaction
And anthrax is far, far from the first
Of homeland attacks and action.

Serengeti

I never saw the Antelope
as graceful, God-forgive-me

Nor its sister, the gazelle, indeed
All horns and waify legs, see...

But so many reference them,
why, graceful they must be!

(but I will still be half-as-gracious
when one's compared to me)