Misogamy or Not
I want to bang chicks who read,do the old wango bango right up in there.
Feminists, hate me, pity me. I want to bang you.
Virgins, weep. Tits, jiggle.
I am a cock with no hole, a chili dog with no bun,
a lover lost among shining crows and white pills.
Mothers, unfurl your womb. Get me up.
I am a frustrated churl, a debauched boor.
Mothers, how I have to hide!
But you know me, where I'm coming from,
don't you? You know I got it easy:
the splayed Christmas trees, bourgeois birthday cakes,
and tinny blue Visa, that plastic autocrat.
If I were suicidal, slitting my wrists with a Visa
may be profound, but not worthwhile.
No, I want to bang the night in my soul's vagina
and come like a frothing, rabid dog.
Maybe then will this never-ending hair stop growing.
Poetry by Vincent Caruso
Read 557 times
Written on 2009-02-03 at 17:10
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