UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY - 02/2004

RC EDRINGTON

Pornographic Novel

The way a drunken cock
sadly begs for penetration,
she pokes the syringe
up and down the worn veins
in her frail tattooed arm.

From the bedroom window,
I am left alone to witness
the whispering wound of moonlight
bleed shadows thru
cottonwood branches
clinging like black fishnet stockings
to midnights bruised thighs.

Once there was love
which passed between us,
where now there is only silence...
and her love was like
a windowless basement
on a storm raped night,
nothing existed outside
its womb like darkness.
But this shelter has begun to cave
like the veins which scar her arms,
and now I'm trapped
within this tomb-like loneliness
searching for an exit door
that may no longer even exist.

In the alley below,
a vietnam veteran in bell bottom jeans
sips the nectar of muse
from a brown papered bag,
then fades into the rear doorway
of an adult movie house
where for .25 cents he'll receive
enough inspiration
to make a metaphor of his hand.

And I wonder,
if her desire to touch me
will ever again be as strong
as her need for a fix right now,
or will she just continue
to pantomime her emotions
like a seasoned porno star.


Chorizo & Eggs

Shooting 8-ball
with this college puke
who keeps buying me
scotch and soda
the little fuck
unaware
that soda destroys
the taste of scotch malts
so I may as well
be sipping metallic tainted
bathtub gin
and he says "Barfly
was a cool movie, man
you think
you could kick Bukowski's ass?"
and do I think
I could shove this cue stick
up this college boy's asshole
till the tip winks like an eyeball
out his lips or
just walk away
down the back alley home
where Carmelita
a $10 mexican whore
waits to share
chorizo and eggs
while I scribble these lines


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