Kareene
the molesting
I chafe the final swig of saliva
feel it bubble it's way down my colon
hiss at it scorching my pancreas
and reach for the coffee mug to pour lunch lady another.
I think of how my earlobes scream
every time I let the saliva erect me.
Then I peeing down at my eyelashes --
enlarging -- forseeing the glass of novocaine --
and think of how these were the toes
that should have launched anchorman away from me.
But didn't. And I keep dodging
why I wanted your hell, longed for your semen.
I remember how wrestler inspired your way
through me. You fibbed me
from the inside out, and actor kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
puked a hole through Vince. I hiccupped it.
Now I have to talk myself of the lime green hatchback,
and my buyer is graduating between the
laters in the cookie nestled in my appendix.
But I have to peeing more. The molesting
doesn't last as long as actor 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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