Thursday, July 20, 2006

SEXY Poem for Poetry Thursday

Happy sexy Poetry Thursday!

Hmmm ... This is not the poem I intended to write, but it's what I ended up with. As far as the process, it feels like some older stuff written in my mid-20s, which feels light years from where I am now creatively. But seems appropriate given the topic. Also, I can say that I was reaching for bolder "let's-just-call-a-spade-a-spade" language, trying to push the envelope between being poetic and being crass. *gulp* It did feel like a stretch to write so maybe that's a good thing.

So I'll just paraphrase what Lynn says on her blog: Yeah, I could say that the reader shouldn't assume I'm the person in the poem but who am I kidding.

Here's a poem about my sex life. Enjoy!


Sex and Pizza

Once a classmate told me
sex is like pizza:
no matter how bad it is,
it’s still pizza.
Strange, coming
from one of the unsexiest people
I knew. Didn’t believe him
until my early 20s
when all I wanted was hard,
kinked-out, unexplainable sex.
9 ½ Weeks sex. Blue Velvet sex.
The small town of my body
sent me outward to a friend
as local as my fingertips.
His body, beautifully taut,
and I was happy hour
poured into a miniskirt.
Before we knew it,
the quick blows of our bodies
struck together like rocks
catching spark.
Ass up, head down,
no stroking, no kissing,
just clumsy, fractional fucking
that was over before it began.
I remember walking
into the unfamiliar daylight,
sleep deprived and scorched
like a house gutted by fire.
Years later, I think
my classmate was right.
How else can I explain
the lip-biting, sloppy goodness
of exploration, of bodies seeking
those fine mistakes and digressions,
the cock and the pussy,
the world dividing into hemispheres,
sliced into its imperfect selves.

(Also, here's a non-sexy poem I wrote this past week: Afternoon Commute Love Song.)


twitches said...

Fractional fucking? Ass up, head down? Happy hour poured into a miniskirt?

Yep, works for me. This poem is just as good as pizza.

bb said...

This pretty much sums up that sex can mean anything. I like it! And I'm loving "Happy hour poured into a miniskirt". Your metaphors are always witty, irreverant but right on the mark!

jzr said...

Love it!! Especially, "Happy hour poured into a miniskirt! Great writing!

pepektheassassin said...

the small town of my body--a great line, among many great lines. Lady, you said you are nothin' fancy. You are ALL fancy!

Marilyn said...

I join the chorus of those who love "Happy hour poured into a miniskirt." Maybe I (cough) relate a bit too much. Raw and relatable...I like it.

Deb R said...

Great job, Jan! I had a feeling you'd come up with something fab for this prompt. And like everyone else, I think the line "Happy hour poured into a miniskirt" is destined to become a classic. It's so perfect!

January said...

Truth be told, I was REALLY looking forward to this prompt.

Funny, I almost cut the line "happy hour poured into a miniskirt." And now I'm glad I didn't.

Can't wait to read everyone's posts this week!

Left-handed Trees... said...

Yum...brave, bold, and tasty writing here. "The quick blows of our bodies/struck together like rocks/catching spark" Loved this one!

Verity said...

Fabulous beautiful poetry, just cos you call a spade a spade doesn't mean it doesn't sound great! I love it.

wendylou who? said...

I liked the part about walking in to the sunlight if the world had changed, because you had. You captured this exporation of a new side to yourself...very well.

Susannah said...

oh January, you minx! this was lip-smackingly delicious - and i too loved the mini skirt :-)

jim said...

Talk about working it! And you know, sometimes you just got to name it, exactly for what it is, and you do.

Sorry if next time that I take a bite of pizza, I'll have a little January buzzing in me.

Ceebie said...

Liked the miniskirt line, as well as "The quick blows of our bodies/struck together like rocks/catching spark". I too found this extremely relatable (though I found my pizza days a little later...)

Lady Wordsmith said...

A hot sticky summer night is keeping me from sleep tonight. I stumbled into you (holding in my hand, cold pizza, no less)looking for something soothing to read. Or at least feed me better than the slice of pie.

"as local as my fingertips"

"just clumsy, fractional fucking"

"the lip biting, sloppy goodness"

Damn woman!

A hot sticky summer night continues to keep me from sleep tonight.

Catherine said...

I don't have anything to add, really, but I just wanted to say I love it - I am getting a great dose of sexy poetry this week.

Lynn said...

I am going to go out on a limb here and say this poem is better than pizza. Way better.

I remember walking
into the unfamiliar daylight,
sleep deprived and scorched
like a house gutted by fire.


bodies seeking
those fine mistakes and digressions

All I can say is, yes, yes, yes. I'd like another serving, please.

Madeleine said...

wow....this made me bite my lip as i read this.
this one hits you right between the eyes, no punches pulled. very carnal. i like made me smile a lot :)

ecm said...

I really like the title and especially "I was happy hour/poured in a mini-skirt"
Great line, great poem.

Delaleuverses said...

Wow, this sort of poem coming from you really surprised me, very well done!!! I need a drink, lol

ruby said...

I loved this line:

The small town of my body
sent me outward to a friend
as local as my fingertips.

pizza has a whole new meaning for me now....

January said...

Thanks for the comments.

*still blushing*

Dani said...

You definitely rocked the house, girl! I remember that feeling quite well and you captured it perfectly. I don't even have to tell you which line is my favorite because the choir already chimed in :-). Good job.

Kat said...

man, this poem is awesome. love it!

GoGo said...

one word: NICE!


Related Posts with Thumbnails