ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

THREE POEMS


Gerrit Lansing

Great Grandmother’s Song Bag
 
How can you
           how can you remember the sounds of the world
           before you were born?
 
           Music was what, what music then
                               and for whom?
 
For whom and for whom and yet yet for whom?
 
What was the music your great grandmother made
and before her, before?
 
Great great grandparents you had you had
                                        everyone has
           has had had.
 
Did their music by day balance their music by night?
Not simply there, what you hear, out there out,
 
                                         it’s passing       passing
                                 passing had had.
                                                                   And strange, that passing.
 
Was there solstice where light equaled night
and music trembled there, on the edge,
                                       between being and passing,
the new   the new   the old   the old   the old, gone, gone gone?
 
                                                And into…. ?
 
                                                                       into WHAT
 
 
 
The Flaming Heterosexual Dreams of Gay Sex
 
Standing, I fuck his bubble butt,
 
reach around to feel his stiffening rod,
 
synchronize, we synchronize,
 
so as I feel him throb and tense to spurt
 
deep I thrust and spurt inside him while his come
                                 shoots through my encircling hand.
 
I lick my sticky fingers
 
                                   then
 
still inside him, turn his head and
 
let him lick my fingers too.
 
 
 
Family Values
               for “the moral majority”
 
“Please suck a little harder,”
said Li’l Bill to his mum,
“Daddy’s tongue is up my asshole
and I’m fixin’ fur to cum.”
 
               Family Values.