Shame
For the smooth-looking
.
Pretending to be blank, you
.
You.
.
– Melted wax,
Still cold –
Still wax.
.
For the scribbled paper
Crumpled, and thrown
Right into the bin.
.
– Open it: it’s blank,
Blank, a void, yet
Again. You.
.
For the uncrumpled, the deceiving
And the paper.
.
You –
Stamped bodies
Bizarre breasts, distorted
Them. You.
.
Seal the void
Of sex
With the wax
Of shame.
Tag: lesbian poetry
Shame
For the smooth-looking
Pretending to be blank, you
You.
– Melted wax,
Still cold –
Still wax.For the scribbled paper
Crumpled, and thrown
Right into the bin.– Open it: it’s blank,
Blank, a void, yet
Again. You.For the uncrumpled, the deceiving
And the paper.
You –
Stamped bodies
Bizarre breasts, distorted
Them. You.Seal the void
Of sex
With the wax
Of shame.
Just another regular anecdote
… She had said, and i
Was sitting on the bed
I had not a right to anymore.
*
C’mon, i thought, you knew
This was bound to happen!
You’ve rehearsed the play over,
And over again;
You know exactly
What to do.
No suitcase, yet, but eventually
They’ll probably allow you one
Since she likes it when things are done
The way they ought to.
For now, your school
Backpack, your laptop, phone, and chargers;
Your textbooks, notebooks, school books
So as not to fall behind – Remember,
You have to get out of there.
(You know exactly
What to do.)
Then underwear, some pants, and shirts
And don’t forget
Your poetry book.
You’ll stand
Outside, on another street,
And give her a call; she’s your friend,
And got her own flat
In the city, after all.
She’ll surely offer shelter
For a few nights, and you’ll tell her
You’ll do the dishes, take no space
And be quiet. You know
How to be quiet; it’s been so long!
Quick! You’re running out of time,
And it’s not
As if you had ever liked this house
And the whole life she carved out
For you anyway.
You know exactly
What to do!
So why won’t you do it?
Now, why are you still sitting
On that bed? The cat
Isn’t purring in your lap;
You have no excuses
To delay your not-so-dramatic exit.
Quick! They want you
Out, so get out, and take
Your things, since
You know exactly
What to do!
*
And the door
Squeaked slowly, and he
– My father –
Stepped in, declared
Somber, and looking
At the window:
“Dinner’s ready. She
Changed her mind. You stay,
But she won’t eat with you
Or have contact anymore.
Now think
Of a proper apology.”
*
And i followed him
Through their house,
Then sat in the kitchen,
Eating her dinner.
The Dyke’s Complaint
Here
comes the Dyke, from night to night,A neon light,
A smoke.
*
Here
comes the Dyke, and her footstepsAre
glued with spit,Are
marked with teeth;*
She
seeps from darker walls,Standing
still, or walksOr
disappears into the depthsOf
a silent subway.*
Her
face? you askHer
clothes?Thicker
than silk,Smoother
than woolThat’s
all you need to know.*
Here
comes the Dyke,Alone,
and soThat
her shadow’s thinkingOf leaving for good
*
And
in the Dyke’s shadowRaise,
and fallA
sobbing girlHuddled
on the floorUnder
a tapestry –*
The
moon’s absent,No
lamp is lit at the windowAnd
trains are passing by:*
Here
goes the Dyke, who knowsThat
her shadow won’t leave for now.
The Dyke’s Complaint
Here
comes the Dyke, from night to night,A neon light,
A smoke.
Here
comes the Dyke, and her footstepsAre
glued with spit,Are
marked with teeth;She
seeps from darker walls,Standing
still, or walksOr
disappears into the depthsOf
a silent subway.Her
face? you askHer
clothes?Thicker
than silk,Smoother
than woolThat’s
all you need to know.Here
comes the Dyke,Alone,
and soThat
her shadow’s thinkingOf leaving for good
And
in the Dyke’s shadowRaise,
and fallA
sobbing girlHuddled
on the floorUnder
a tapestry –The
moon’s absent,No
lamp is lit at the windowAnd
trains are passing by:Here
goes the Dyke, who knowsThat
her shadow won’t leave for now.
The Dyke’s Complaint
Here
comes the Dyke, from night to night,A neon light,
A smoke.
Here
comes the Dyke, and her footstepsAre
glued with spit,Are
marked with teeth;She
seeps from darker walls,Standing
still, or walksOr
disappears into the depthsOf
a silent subway.Her
face? you askHer
clothes?Thicker
than silk,Smoother
than woolThat’s
all you need to know.Here
comes the Dyke,Alone,
and soThat
her shadow’s thinkingAbout
leaving for goodAnd
in the Dyke’s shadowRaise,
and fallA
sobbing girlHuddled
on the floorUnder
a tapestry –The
moon’s absent,No
lamp is lit at the windowAnd
trains are passing by:Here
goes the Dyke, who knowsThat
her shadow won’t leave for now.