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biche Feb 20
I don’t know how to proceed
It seems you don’t need
My attention
Except the answers to
Basic questions like
Are you hungry?
To you, that’s care —
And I need to be fed, but
I don’t dare
Tell you what I’m hungry for

My educated, thoughtful, reasoned, and empassioned analysis
Is of no interest
No wonder I feel stupid
Telling you

My buxom, breathless, bothered, bewildered body
Trembles unseen underneath
Clothes worn like a shroud
Because you say goodnight
And walk out

Oh, the devastation! All you did was kiss me and close the door gently, leaving me alone in the dark. Others would **** for the things I have. You told me that.

Maybe it’s all in my head
Maybe your love isn’t dead
Maybe the spell took hold
Maybe when all is told
We will sit and look at the sea
Understanding each other and
Smiling - finally.
biche Feb 20
I know I won’t get what I want
Are my expectations that daunting
Yes and your lack of enthusiasm is
Hardly calming me down it’s
A good thing you can’t hear me frown
On the phone even though it was
All we had when we first met
You hadn’t yet felt it that
Disappointment that letdown that
Withdrawal method the emotional one
You deny it and always insist
You love me
And I do
Believe that and I love you beyond measure
And we both know there is something
Wrong but still you make it alright
And I don’t give you enough credit
For that
I learned early that **** was the form
of choice for ***.  Not that the act was
named or the ****** ugly.  

Where in the world are you all now?
you mealyworms.  How like you to
teach me violence as love and leave
me to learn the lesson so well.

I recline.  **** is the sharing of two
faces.  Your face smells of beer and
your pounding hips ground me.  I
lie.  You are a broken bottle smacked
against a building on a hot summer night.

You are the cigarette before left in the
weeds.  I learned from you not to trust
the backseat of cars, to wait for calls
from the garbage man’s son.

Trash man, black car, you hung
on a tree.  All your sperms dangle
in the light of the bowling alley, shine
in the rubber.

Old man, pound on me till you think
I am satisfied.  Old man.  Eat ****.
        old man eat ****
        old men eat ****, grow bald.
        Remember me in the dashlight
        I was the fifteen year old rubbed
        drunk, sunk under the haze of
        horror.  You were the gun.


Caroline Shank
biche Feb 17
Men
Clean energy
Politics
Feral nocturnal predators
Personal responsibility
Men - *** - ***!
Justice
State-sponsored ******
Polar vortex
Global warming
Oppression and marginalization
Private prisons
Men - *** - *** - pain - passion!
Parenting
Chores and work (that one’s big)
Questions clients ask
Masks, masks, masks
Permaculture
The fragile grid
The time-space continuum
Relativity
Men - *** - *** - pain - passion - love - ***! ***! *******
Self-esteem
Self-help
Methodologies
Philosophies
“Health is wealth”
Cultural appropriation
Birth and death of a nation
Slavery is still in effect
The contemporary panopticon
Poetry
Men - *** - ***- pain - passion - love - LOSS!
Intimacy
Friendship
Trust
Care
Men! Men! Men!
*** and pain!
Passion and love!
Profit and gain
Loss!
Understanding
*******
Sedation
Psychosis
Desire
Me­n! ***! Passion! Love! Pain! Loss! ******* on a schedule!
Questions and Answers
*Look within
biche Feb 16
You said you wanted me
In the daytime
So you could clearly see
What makes me a woman
In the sunlight
biche Feb 15
Who knows where
The heat goes when
It leaves my skin
And body cold

Nobody promised me
Anything

(Silence empty
Hollow ringing)

Desire takes peace
Out back to
Be shot

Still, it is all
I got now, just the
Liquid fire with
Furrowed brow
Holding the fort

I got burnt so badly
I shivered

(Sun scathing
Rough sailing)

Ah, the distance
I keep

The power I
Handed over
Just sits
Like a rock
On a flower

Crushing
You, me, and
Everyone in between.
biche Feb 14
I can’t get enough
Not from one or any of you
I seethe with potential
Answers to the question:
Just how many of you
Could I take (and take, and take)
In the suspended space
Of one afternoon?

Oh I’m self-sufficient
A free woman
Still, I can’t seem to
Get what I need  
Not hard enough
Not deep enough
Not often enough
Not dark enough
Not rough enough
Not real enough
Not enough pain
Not enough care
For all that I dare
To give up

I want to feel those
******* butterflies
Those weak knees
I have reins to give you
Take them

Instead I’m
Disconnected
Disaffected
Utterly bereft
The whole package
Left unwrapped
Treasure untapped
Energy sapped

Don’t laugh -
And please don’t say
No, and especially not
“For my own good” -
That will not do.
You don’t know!
This is the way!
I have nothing else
To say about it -
This is my road
The path home.
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