Knowing

[Maybe now 6S will finally acknowledge my genius!]

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The men of the Bible don't copulate or fornicate, and they certainly never screw or fuck; they just "know". How oblique, how laughable. Despite its goofy sound, in naked definition the term is surprisingly intimate; when a man knows a woman, he learns what it's like to be inside her. But is this privilege reserved only for the heterosexual bearers of the almighty phallus? Isn't it terribly arrogant, hopelessly ignorant, to assume that sex singly illuminates the depth and secrets of a person's being? Yet the wise men pump away, and the women beneath them stare up at the ceiling, knowing only that they know nothing.

Pocket Poems

[Some tentatively-titled poems from a poetry packet that I turned in for my high school writing class.]

-

"Vintage Type"

Imagine, in art deco blue like
Jordan almonds, an old curvy convertible
with headlights that catch the chrome
of the fabulous 50’s. You drive this car,
with its porcelain dashboard and the black letters of the speedo
counting chk-chk-chk-chk-chk, the odo *ding* -
the pistons churn and the machinery marches,
the tires leaving stains on the paper highway.
You lift your fingers and take your foot
off of the gas and the highway stops,
the wheels freeze midturn,
the candy blue and porcelain keys are
the face of static silence, the essence
of a great engine waiting to fire again.
The letters and symbols stare patiently
up at you from the dash, the question mark
wonders why?????? you've stopped, the ampersand
waits for the next word &&& the spacebar
cravesthepercussionofyourwriting -

the waiting is too much and you rev the engine
and speed along the white road,
leaving your words behind like chk-chk-chk-chk-chk
*ding* and the wind is on your face and you could just
SCREAM for joy but there is no exclamation mark*

-

"Sense Fire"

see white taste
wax touch
quiet strike
matches see
sparks smell
smoke sense
flame spits
shadows quick
life see
life where
once was
air

-

"Jilted Birds"

You and me,
bears. Your eyes like honey
as you love me. Sticky fur,
the bees come buzzing,
stinging under my
skin and dying.