Eroticasual Poems: Act One

(I start at 15:35)

ACT ONE

At Attention

It is over new furniture 

and the piano 

that cheap perfume hovers

I like it fresh and French and gravel-y, like butt-eR, cRoissANT, caRRot-RApier

You will find no chardonnay in this american girl give me bitt-ER

Pixie powder is more sneeze than love

I want orgasm of New

If I’m honest, which i am, the day was boring

(me, you) lavishing Romanesque

Purple orbs in plump bunches

Dropping toosweet worlds into my mouth

Fed like worms your chick, I: hungry

but overfed affection

I am tired of bowls. They hold things

Unheld I want wingspan

coffee grounds not sugar, 

raw tongue, I want barbs

Your little kitten breath is want of charm, with nibbles and bites: a subpar massage

Harder I come without your name

Oh! The closing of your eyes

Etc

Is only a little death

Give me everything

La petite mort

What I love more than grapes is you, 

at attention.

Lucky You

The dishes were naughty

Old fruit. Juice. Flies restless

Nothing was decorating the counter 

naked

Hum of the ice box cooing

The garbage needed to be taken out

Sheer laziness. (coyly:) Or defiance.

Plums placed as an offering

(delicately there)

Ignored,

(tragically)

rotted.

Flowers bent and soggy,

Wet.

Easing into bites just whetted

A magnificent scandal erupted

The pomegranates to the potatoes gasp: shut your eyes!

We tried to keep it in the kitchen

Under the table

By the eggs

(there were never any eggs)

But when she walked in the room

…

Everyone froze

Reducing us to still life

We tried not to look

Through the crinkle of plastic

Romain’s heart sinks

the figs moan again

When a glovethick hand

Swooshes along the countertop

Like a racecar in Kentucky.

She turns to me:

“You’ve been a very, very bad maid.”