Got published in the Los Angeles based Feminist magazine VENUS ( Very Empowered Nymphs Uplifting our Sex). Be sure to check it out HERE!!!
Why should I apologize for queefing?
You shouldn’t. Say it was a fart, the cat, an old boot, the sound of the patriarchy dying, or, better yet, say it was your vagina and then be proud of your squeaky balloon pocket.
What should be done about my unkempt muff?
Nothing. If you can grow it long enough to cover your tits, then you got yourself a bathing suit for summer as well as a toasty winter coat. It truly is for all seasons.
Should period stained panties be thrown away?
Only ever … periodically.
What should I do about the dark nipple hairs around my areola?
Braid them together and run howling naked through the streets. If possible, attach things to them and windmill them in front of parents. A piece of advice, go for the parents with the furrowed brows.
Should I change the sheets after cumming?
Continue adding to it. Ideally, if you are currently laying in a lake, try creating an ocean as we are currently experiencing a water crisis. Then, sleep in it and feel proud that your body could experience such glorious unfiltered pleasure.
I was a white cow
being led by a shadow tree
back to the barn. I could not
through the door until
to a more manageable size.
Inside the barn
the brown bull was mounting the heifer.
I was guided to my stall.
On the clean hay
lay two calves,
one two and the other one,
dead from neglect.
I felt nothing
and trotted back out to pasture.
The strange sensation of giving space in public
even now don’t give it to me
Give me this
and give me my space in public
the space to freely move this body
through the street
engaging in ____ repetition
Repeat this monstrous rhythm
within this entrapped tradition of
moving through the physical space
Give me this because I will gratuitously give you
EVERY _____ TIME
your voices echo
up these walls
and through the subway
I give you
would you kindly give
When you date the man you’re going to marry,
only to realize you don’t want to be married.
When you love the woman you wish you could be,
only to realize you could never be loved.
When you kiss someone goodbye,
only to realize you were saying hello.
When you break your heart,
only to realize it never needed mending.
When you hold someone close,
only to realize you pulled them through you.
When you become a parent,
only to realize you are barren.
When your adjectives become the adverbs of the actions
you wish you could perform.
I am skeleton buildings and pallet furniture
I am insulated under armor
I am a loophole on repeat
I am pinto beans and pineapple rings
Consummation of voracious cultural consumption
I am a threshold
A door frame that presents the
Pretty picture of me
For the rest of the world to see
Because I am a square that moves like a circle
But squares are not supposed to move like circles
They are sturdy and unmoving
There are 4 corners
And 4 sides
4 90 degree angles
Which is the exact circumference of a circle
We are never as we appear
Because we have so much potential symmetry
Run you ragged and leave you on the floor
coming down from a gnarly cocktail of drugs and debauchery.
The onlookers grin because they have undoubtedly been there before,
possibly even yesterday,
and there’s no distinction
between the week or weekend,
between opening and closing.
there’s no distinction for closing times because
bars and clubs
which is a common mistake
the amateurs make.
Starting strong in the beginning and
assuming that the venues and owners have
your best interest in mind
which is foolish
because they already have your money.
As if they would flick their lights and corral you
out into the morning light,
like good little paying penguins, but
because for every stupid penguin that falls off the cliff,
there is always another eagerly waiting to
take the plunge.
stand in line little penguin.
Pay, plunge, and
earn your stamp.