Sitting on a dick
that’s limp
she reminds me of
the happiest day of my life
when I am five
and my father brings a cake
to wish me a happy birthday
and he says he’s happy
really happy
and so am I –
both of us the happiest
after
a life he pieced together
in punctured English
and in abysses of sadness
and things I can’t know
just like he can’t know
I peed my pants a little
while he brought out the cake –
then the cake falls on the floor
and he goes out to buy another
because he made a mistake
which happens when you’re older
but there are also solutions you discover
if you give them time
and I wait
and the cake comes
and I am older
and so is he
and the cake is the same
brown frosting and whip cream
with my name smudged on top
but it is different too
even if a picture is taken
of me blowing out the layers of sweets
and it looks like the happiest moment
repeated again and again and again
until I come,
or just shoot smoke.
*
How flimsy
a penis is
that all it takes
is a tumor
to grow in it
after a bit
of wrist work
and how complete
is the
woman’s seat
of joy
that overflows
to give me cancer
that poisons
the whole
with pus
*
I spent time
studying the anatomy
of a woman
to please her
but I was old
and soft
and dusty
by the end
of the research
and so was she,
from solid to
sludge,
boner to
boned.
Discussion
No comments yet.