May 2013 - Comments Off

Deadly Seven

Hannah Kucharzak '13

I throw electric lightning bolts. I yawn
my godly grievance with white-knuckled force.

I dig and scoop the mire. I pile it on
my body, stinking happy piggy corpse.

The mirror tells me buxom bitch. I lick
the glass. My tongue tastes just like diamond pearls.

My mattress holds me: fleshy, concrete brick.
The beast gets what she wants, she lies, she snarls.

My eye strips off the clothes of everyone.
I see your meaty sex. I’m plump with drool.

I slather lard and headcheese on a bun.
I leap, gut-first, into the vodka pool.

I watch you touch yourself. Can I be you
for once? To feel my love and touch you too?

Published by: in Poetry, Volume 69, Volume 69: Issue 2

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