ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

Two Poems


Phil Crippen

Amateur Porn

 

I await your coming,

knowing that the excuse has

been made, the rings have

been tucked into the drawer

next to the toothbrush and

 

floss, that the top is mine

and not his, tho it lives in his

closet in plain view

the sound and smell of the ATM

gets us both hard at the tips

 

he never knew you were shaved,

and exercising, and anal

one bed is always lonely,

always like a grocery store

late at night, a summer house

 

mud room or a tee box swing

an epidural to the ass (the

sadness is mine, not his), we

milk each other like cows,

drained and guilty afterglow,

 

they know we fuck at the

“Duck and Decanter”

and the “Shea 14”

he said we should get a hobby

he loves our films

 

 

 

Dick Junk

 

up the ant goes from sand

burrow plastic tractor

acrylic red dome to the leaves

 

climb over the other

hummer ant right of way

is in tubal earth bog

 

a worker ransom

grand prize king

of the drunken petunia

 

Originally Published in:  MIRAGE #4/PERIOD(ICAL) #125