caution: contains erotic content
Years before the adult animated cartoon series: Big Mouth, with its Hormone Monsters ill-advising, mostly, the cusping pubescences of teenagers, I wrote this poem.
The sliding door
could be pushed
a little extra
until a gap, an undetectable
slither gave
enough to see in to
the shower
and bath.
I sat on the toilet
behind the slit opened
and they stepped out
wet. front on. bent over.
Bulb lit through this
narrow sector
as I waited for my teacher
in the frosted white light,
condensation on the bulb.
Genie whispered, told me this
a little something
not my person, like a visitor
on school trips being billeted
all the new diversity, uncertain
he hinted, love, wood, b minus,
hidden in perversity.
I sat feeling separate
prosperity, swollen with Dare
& nursing polarity, aware
of the magnetic boundary
protection we share—so little
between it, a hung
sacred door, a sense
of Commons, cannons, law
of the curtains, and kindness
untested, compassionate
breasted. but firm
as a trigger
is stubbornly final,
made me a poet, maddens,
but vital, a hardiness,
with disregard, with the I
having I in the spiral
as it fights with itself
for survival
re-poles in this ignoble
recital, hypnotically
foisted upon her
sparseness—tell’em
of vellus, the flower,
half petaled, parted
and full, out of its mystery.
genie, I stammered, three
more rubs
on the hot blood-hammer
my wishing ill, stop—
as many a pube
as b.days. the girl, he
grunted, soapy fronted,
returns in a semi-transparency
garn, dare yr, phuck
look at her
dripping at the middle
meridian, tightening the
Roll-on,
a cycle from fertile,
formica in stainless ministry.
stood staring
in the creature
becoming. I’ll probe her
field for five more
pennants, a moment’s
permission, it’s not
me, it isn’t
the genie, toe-boned
pubescence
of knowing already
a thing or two
fancied or fantasised
isn’t, is not
a request. a flimsy
wish, a flap-door, a
plastic page-thin curtain
from her boyish
boned hip groans.
make me a poet
of perfected resistance
behind the monstrosity
seeking to grip me
millimetres.
exquisite.
inaccurate
of the actual
display space
stood in the cabin
-eg, -ie, -e-i-o
mirrors of animal
fogged post & pre menses,
ol’ macdonald m’genie.
thanks mark. wrote 2011 i think. never wanted to post it before ….but was feeling ‘reactionary ‘
this is awesome. when did you write this?