Wednesday, 21 October 2009

On being sexually harassed by poetry

OK then yes
I said
Reading the auguries
In my gusset
Watching white wine
Turn to red
In my glass
OK then yes
I will let you in

I’ll take off my tracksuit
Unlace my trainers
And put on your rings
And your shrouds

I’ll eat your damn figs
And lap the honey
And the salt
From your palm

And in the bat time
I’ll feed myself
Back slim enough
To fit between your lines

You have been patient
These afternoons

So yes, then

OK then yes


  1. becoming slim in the bat time risk slippery especially when engorging figs..
    word verify: unkly

  2. I missed your writings, Sack Posset. This is a wonderful modernst poem, reminiscent of T.S. at his best, yet with that unique richness and decadence that I have come to think of Sack Possetness. Superb.

  3. I found a bat giving birth to a baby. They both died. I painted a painting called 'bat baby'. My friend who witnessed the whole thing was mad at me. I still have that painting in a box under my desk. I don't know why you turned me onto this subject.

  4. Good poem.

    I envy and admire your ability to be so stimulated by poetry. It's one of the safer pleasures.

    Do you ever get poetically harassed by sex?

  5. I love the title, but then it seems more of a seduction that an assault. There is an acquiesce - and though we get the feeling you don't want to right now, there is still some sense of strength: that if you really didn't want poetry, you'd have the strength to pull out a blade and tell it to fuck off :)