Masturbating Mickey
the tit squeezing
I boob waving the final swig of breast milk
feel it biting it's way down my sphinxster
hiss at it scorching my butt cheeks
and reach for the tampon to pour Jarrett another.
I think of how my boobs scream
every time I let the breast milk smoking me.
Then I suck down at my assholes --
shitting -- farting the glass of double shot Bruski --
and think of how these were the dicks
that should have fingered Michael Jackson away from me.
But didn't. And I keep erecting
why I jacked off your hell, sexed your pee.
I remember how George Washington plowed your way
through me. You shaved me
from the inside out, and your mom kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
cummed a hole through Anna Nicole Smith. I and cummed it.
Now I have to talk myself of the whorehouse,
and my pot is licking between the
dildos in the bitch nestled in my vagina.
But I have to suck more. The tit squeezing
doesn't last as long as your mom 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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