I spent my whole life seeking it,
wrecking, reeking, eking it,
in hydra-headed phalluses;
in aliases & pal-louses;
in papapapapaMedusas;
in mirrors & seducers.
I looked for it in boxers,
in the dumps of ten detoxes,
in the roll of rundown rockers,
in anal & banal boys.
I slept with legions
in every single region;
I made love to none;
loved only one.
But it all goes back to Daddy:
Daddy, I'm your caddy;
I know you wanted a laddy;
sorry I wasn't a lady.
Family history
is largely hysterical mystery.
This old cold sold hold blow on me
is moldy geneaology.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2014
(125)
-
▼
June
(14)
- Metrical Exercise: Trochaic Tetrameter (Waiting fo...
- BETWEEN ECLIPSES*
- I AM NOT YOUR INSECT
- I have lost your fingers
- I am the new poetry editor for MadHat Annual!
- Happy Bloomsday!
- Daddy's Elusive Love
- Mersad Mostaghimi's Translation of "Your Probabili...
- Your Probability Amplitude
- Mikhail Niziaev's beautiful Russian translation of...
- Mapping
- Saturn series June 9 to feature Larissa Shmailo, p...
- A Sop for Cerberus
- Poem in Random House Anthology
-
▼
June
(14)
No comments:
Post a Comment