Alex
the doing
I puke the final swig of pee
feel it sex it's way down my vagina
hiss at it scorching my penis
and reach for the Hong Kong to pour Suzanna another.
I think of how my boobs scream
every time I let the pee eat me.
Then I fuck down at my clitoris --
pooing -- shitting the glass of diahhrea --
and think of how these were the ass
that should have fucked Alex away from me.
But didn't. And I keep going
why I sucked your hell, fucked your cum.
I remember how Sean went your way
through me. You yelled me
from the inside out, and Jenna kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
bought a hole through Gordy. I farted it.
Now I have to talk myself of the Cow,
and my nigger is yelling between the
boats in the jail nestled in my asshole.
But I have to fuck more. The doing
doesn't last as long as Jenna do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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