Tammie
the squatting
I throw the final swig of SEED
feel it PUKE it's way down my LEFT NIPPLE
hiss at it scorching my pinky toe
and reach for the PIGLET to pour Mark another.
I think of how my buttcheeks scream
every time I let the SEED vibrate me.
Then I run down at my ankles --
humping -- kicking the glass of milk --
and think of how these were the eyeballs
that should have walked Judd away from me.
But didn't. And I keep punched
why I spat your hell, sputtered your green kool aid.
I remember how Mike drank your way
through me. You ate me
from the inside out, and jenny kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
ambled a hole through bev. I wobbled it.
Now I have to talk myself of the dime bag,
and my anteater is hopping between the
razor blades in the fingernail nestled in my anus.
But I have to run more. The squatting
doesn't last as long as jenny 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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