poetry

China doll

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To the man who is not going to get what you want

surgically enhanced tiny Asian girl with inflated breasts and pout

who will never desire

your greying belly flopping over uncool tweed

which you half realize when you consider

the absurdity of your haggard reflection

what you don’t envision, the harm of your penchant for fantasy

and how

you may be married but whilst you stray in your mind and locked bathroom

you are only half inhabiting the woman who promised

for better or worse

it is she who really wanted you

the one you now, judge with diffidence and boredom

while you build a private world for what you can never have

if you had money you could possess

but it still wouldn’t be real

only you wouldn’t care a damn

so long as she let you worship

you’re not fussy about emotion

an ” exotic” is worth more than loyalty or devotion

you’d trade your wife in without hesitation for

a new model with adjustable thighs

you can stuff her where she hasn’t yet been stuffed

have your dark-eyed children bound for Harvard

mount her on your wall, the eastern trophy of your success

who cares if she used you more?

despised your flacidity and milky sour breath

did you never catch her revulsion of you?

or was that half the fun?

now you’re on the wrong side of sixty

clawing for something bigger than yourself

every Sunday you proclaim it is God

then whack off in the bathroom thinking

of her glossy head bowed in prayer and what you’d do

given half a chance

you have lost your shame believing nobody can see the machinations of your lust

only they are visible and nothing else

not even the veal of your fatty heart

and she who would be your prize would laugh

chooses a younger man and gets a Masters in Economics

now you only have images of her to grope on-screen

hiding the stains on your underwear behind the heater

inwardly your ache becomes a boil ready to burst

infecting all that could have been good

at night, digging in disappointment

turning to your wife who opens her arms

feeling none of her love

touch you

this is the way of your modern

marriage

three to a bed

you, she and in-between

pornographic fantasy

her almond eyes and lithe legs

begging you to pierce your foundation

for playthings and illusion

the china doll

your fantasized upgrade

on faded obsessions with youth

and the grandure of coveting

empty images of passion

 

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fiction, life, prosetry

After The Devil

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After The Devil

she chose a hermaphrodite

it was quite by accident he did not advertise on his dirty t-shirt

or the filth beneath his bittern nails

something about the sad premature crease

of his grief and a slowness when they sat

drinking in silence listening to Nick Cave, fingers entwined

an ugly cupid with smooth hairless face and small hands

he had more passion in his molten brand of madness

drew her out of herself like a needle filled with blood

why shouldn’t she feel again? she was only

half used up

the finger prints of her humiliation could not

come off in his porcelain bath but there was some comfort

crushed underneath a new lover

her heart after all was deformed

mistake and gore of nature in her grandeur

how unhinged people can hold each other up

understanding the slur of repulsion

he took a photo of her before she knew

her elongated labia was showing

his pot belly and marshy dark nipples

they were horrified to see in reproduction

the honesty of their cavort via camera

disgusting really

to be so young and so

imperfect

and such a relief at the same time 

his wrinkled penis was less than an inch and she

had the smear of Electra urging her entreaty

when he held her down and reenacted

the snuff films of Dario Argento

squeezing almost tight enough to come

she saw a momentary quenching of anguish

like a reverse motion water fall

his urine landing on her flattened breasts

hanging over her rib cage in thin abandon

open your legs he said and show me your filth and scars

and though she had read Simone de Beauvoir

and Luce Irigaray

she found herself widening them

into a vile parody of former shyness

go on then she said

eat me out even though I disgust you

because he was filled with mocking self-hate

his little prick useless for much else aside frotage

he gave the best head she ever had

bar none

maybe it felt that way

because they had twisted and turned

until their skulls lay beside them

watching two ugly creatures

chew on their mutual sorrow

 

 

 

 

(thank you all at Hijacked Amygdala)

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