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Carlo C Gomez Jun 21
She's in parties
& knees-up
She's half-seas over
& in the king's cup

She's in missionary
She's in backwards
She's on backseats
& dashboards

She's in fast lanes
& intersections
She's in full throttle
& Hail Marys

She's in obituaries
& cemeteries
Bard May 4
More than a bargain, it cost me more
But now my brains scattered on tour
Of every moment and place I hit the floor
No catharsis every stops been a chore

But I'm still looking to travel some more
Tonight my face hits the floor once again
I'm traveling through life on a tour
Feels like my body is the bus for my brain

I'm looking out the window as life happens to me
Sight-see mountains high and valleys low
Where the crows fly is where I'll be
The journey is slow and even though its all I know

A empty spot resides of another way to go
So another way is where I'll go
Till I crash and my body's all over the floor
And I 'll get up and look for more
Millay Has Her Way with a Vassar Professor
by Michael R. Burch

After a night of hard drinking and spreading her legs,
Millay hits the dorm, where the Vassar don begs:
“Please act more chastely, more discretely, more seemly!”
(His name, let’s assume, was, er ... Percival Queemly.)

“Expel me! Expel me!”—She flashes her eyes.
“Oh! Please! No! I couldn’t! That wouldn’t be wise,
for a great banished Shelley would tarnish my name ...
Eek! My game will be lame if I can’t milque your fame!”

“Continue to live here—carouse as you please!”
the beleaguered don sighs as he sags to his knees.
Millay grinds her crotch half an inch from his nose:
“I can live in your hellhole, strange man, I suppose ...
but the price is your firstborn, whom I’ll sacrifice to Moloch.”
(Which explains what became of pale Percy’s son, Enoch.)

Originally published by Lucid Rhythms. This poem is based on an account of Edna St. Vincent Millay being confronted by a male Vassar authority about her rogue behavior. However, there is a some poetic license involved, for the sake of humor. It was actually Vassar President Henry Noble MacCracken who mentioned Shelley. Here is his account in a response to a question about Millay cutting classes: "She cut everything. I once called her in and told her, 'I want you to know that you couldn't break any rule that would make me vote for your expulsion. I don't want to have any dead Shelleys on my doorstep, and I don't care what you do.' She went to the window and looked out and she said, 'Well on those terms I think I can continue to live in this hellhole.'" The stuff about Enoch and Moloch is, of course, pure fabrication on my part.
Keywords/Tags: Millay, dead, Shelley, Vassar, dorm, hellhole, drinking, partying, ***, cutting classes
The Women's Temperance League
tried to abolish themselves
but like always they failed

so they learned instead
to crash neighborhood parties
with the grace of gazelles on Ritalin

now they have colorful plastic
bowls and cups
with fancy closing tops

matching barcode tattoos
on their wrists
that say "priceless"

and some assurance
that their vulvas
are "normal"

after gazing at them
with compact mirror in one hand
shot of ***** in the other
elysian Dec 2019
neon lights and drunken nights,
skimpy tights and unholy delights.

anything to make the pain disappear,
go ahead and down another beer.

hennessy to forget but somehow always remember,
that fateful night in september.

blaring music and tight spaces,
i'd doubt i'm still in your mom's good graces.

euphoria fills my head,
helping me forget a love now dead,

finding your next replacement,
thinking how to tell them about my lack of commitment.

finally, stumbling home,
letting strangers roam.

alas, the night has come to an end,
wake, rinse and repeat again.
elysian Dec 2019
sitting there, looking pretty
i can't help but wonder
starting to feel a little witty
hope i don't make a blunder

eyes lock, and you beckon me closer
and of course
hope you don't think i'm a loser
in your delirium, giving me the source

fingers touch, electricity courses through my veins
my eyes go wider
as i look down and confusion pertains
who the **** gets drunk on apple cider?
guess im on a roll today
chichee Jul 2019
They keep asking us where we were
last night and we
Could tell the truth
but where's the fun in that?
The world wants answers and we've only
got big dreams and
empty stomachs.
So what do you want to be when you grow up?
Your smile is all teeth.
Someone.
Getting high,
Getting loved,
Getting glamorous on
thrift shop discounts.
Getting plastered.
You'll write your confessions
in the fog on windows,
and worship
deaf gods.

With quicksilver tongues and
eyes like mercury,
We can't wind
the years back
but
we sure as hell can try.
For Fix.
jack Jan 2019
i did lines
not just of poetry
it’s the thing that binds
me to myself
i've had a few things hidden up my sleeve.
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