today's poem is by carrie murphy, whose very excellent book pretty tilt (from which this poem originates) you should order immediately.
HERE IS WHAT I LIKE:
I’m lying in bed eating madeleines & reading about the case of the onion vagina. A man & a woman were drunk & had sex & the woman woke up alone with an onion in her vagina. It was in London, 1961. She thought it was a tumor, but he left it as a “parting gift.”
Sex tip: Discuss merits of breastfeeding.
Sex tip: Advise on the best cleaning kit for your weapon.
Remember that time I had a stomach virus & I threw up after I took my birth control? Your face went white & you
wouldn’t even finger me for like a week. I said I’ll Google it but I’m pretty sure I’m barren anyway.
I’m lying in bed eating jellybeans & reading about Marilyn Monroe’s pelvic x-rays. They will be sold at auction by her former gynecologist’s family. The x-rays are rumored to be have been taken before a miscarriage in 1954. In black & white, the scrollwork of her fallopian tubes.
Sex tip: Recite peak fertility days for the last five months.
Sex tip: Shoot out the porch light with a .38 special caliber revolver.
Remember when I asked you what you think about during sex & you wouldn’t answer? so I said When we fuck I see a scrolling marquee of your name up in lights surrounded by fireworks & laurels, raining joy & gumdrops. You smirked meanly.
Sex tip: Tell him where to aim.
Sex tip: Tell her you like a little belly.
Remember after we had sex & I said, Look at all those Eastern European babies running out of me? I’m proud of being Italian & Irish, but really, you & I are both just white. Eastern European babies just sapping their way down my leg.
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