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Yom Kippur, XBox and Puberty

By on June 4, 2013
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HotChat

Baby, I’m going to HotChat you tonight
Pour almond oil on my silver tongue
And lick a Highway 69 across your bicoastal
Shoulders. I’m a headhunter
Itching to make you cross my Bridge
Of Sighs—do I have a job—Beat you out
Of the bushes and make sure I get my dibs.
Here’s my tongue, my teeth, my mouth
As you pixel my skin with soft kisses
‘Til I totter on the painted edge;
Make my Bézier curves miss
The way you use my ass for a ledge.
But then what will you do
When I close the window on you?

Puberty Patty Melt

Everywhere she looks she sees naked bodies
with dimpled breasts, a thousand penises
wrapped around each other like circus
elephants until she dissolves back
into history class, fifth period.

She sees her mother and father doing it
on the bare kitchen table, without a cloth,
inviting friends over for a light course
of nipples and fried pubic hair breaded
with urine and crushed pretzels, chips.

Everything she hears is an invitation to sex:
suck my boob, dick, lick my vagina hard;
incantations follow: I want, I want to,
the Exorcist girl twirls her green baton.
No stupid. That’s some cheerleader’s vomit.

She wants her other body back, the one that
doesn’t itch and get hot and make her
have cyber sex with people twice her age.
She wants to go to school, get straight As,
kick goals with the strength of 50 monkeys.

She wants the music to start playing right now.

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Lenore grew up in New York City, lived in the Windy City, and made her home in the Bay Area. Currently, she is getting southern exposure in Louisiana. Her collections include "Cutting Down the Last Tree on Easter Island" (West End Press, 2012), "Tap Dancing on the Silverado Trail" (Finishing Line Press, 2011), and “Sh’ma Yis’rael” (Pudding House Publications, 2007).
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