you on me.

December 2, 2009 § Leave a comment

you and me eve
we can be the first no
the you-boys-can-go-fuck-yourself
the middle finger to thin-lipped figures
on the sidewalk as we twist our hips
and make them cry

we can demand to be satisfied
refuse to be the duitiful daughters
on our knees

don’t smile when we ain’t happy
nod when we don’t agree
no more
that ain’t got to be we

we can be a blues song
on a moonless night
when everything ain’t close to right
and drink hard liquor in hard bars
like old vets wailing out stories
of hell fire, brimstone,
and childhood’s blood-soaked dreams
laughing full belly

we can be greater than gods

let the blinders fall
and carry each other’s shadows
our backs to the sun

let me pluck you like a golden apple
peel away your skin
and eat until i make you scream

we can be
the last word



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You are currently reading you on me. at guerrilla mama medicine.


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