Poetry (I’m Too Prosaic for This)

So I wrote a poem. It was weird. I don’t do poetry. But it wasn’t working as a story, so I went and experimented. I also tried it with “cunt” for “fingers”, but “cunt” doesn’t have enough syllables and “pussy” is iambic and I needed a trochaic word (also, logic: how does one reach over a riverbank with one’s cunt? I do not know), so I’m unfortunately stuck with the less vulgar version.

 

Tantalus in the River

I am Tantalus in the river,

and by your hand I cheat the gods.

With my mouth I bite the air below the peach,

crack my teeth,

bite my tongue,

starve in the shy water.

But from your fingers I lick sweet nectar,

and my belly,

so full of warmth,

no longer cries.

A Couple of Sad Things

I wrote these in high school, when I was really into abusive relationships. (Unlike some people, I actually did understand that these relationships were abusive; I just thought it was hot, and was proud of being messed up. Forgive me. We were all teenagers once.) I still really like them, so here you go: enjoy, or don’t. 

Also, the first one was published in my college literary magazine, so that’s cool.

TW emotional abuse.

POEM: Sharpener (this started out as a joke piece about pencil sharpeners and penises (some guy was being a jerk to me, so I threatened him in a ridiculous way to get him to leave me alone, but it was high school, so it didn’t work), and ended up somewhere completely different.)

STORY: This is the Alphabet (Inspired by this haiku from a haiku generator: around his ass cheeks / and over his low back this / is the alphabet. NSFW)