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