HIS INTRODUCTION TO SEX
The pain, he says,
it seared like fire.
Sure her legs were spread
but wounds were spread wider.
Since when was love
the sting of leather,
the pinch of metal
down the chest,
the screws turned tighter and tighter,
until my head cracked,
thoughts gushed like spit.
And handcuffs were the last straw.
couldn’t see woman barefoot
and pregnant in those,
just my own tarnished reflection,
gobs of eyes,
mouth twisted like TV cables.
Next time, he says,
it’ll be roses not spanking.
the heart in lieu of the paddle,
soft words not cussing,
and no one shedding
one drop of blood
but us virgins.
My signature assures the money
is but a temporary boarder in this house.
I’m not autographing for a rabid fan,
merely inscribing my wealth away.
The sky is overcast,
spending the light I imagine.
It’s beginning to rain
now the sunshine’s paid
that electric bill, the sewage fee.
Don’t come near, I tell my wife.
A kiss upon your cheek
could will your green eyes
to the gas company.
A hug from these debtor hands
and your flesh, your bone,
could well be eaten up in taxes.
Pen having done its damage,
I drop that shameless piece of plastic to the desk.
All I can do is sit there breathing,
waiting until the air falls due.
Australian born poet, works as financial systems analyst. Recently published in Poem,
Caveat Lector, Prism International and the horror anthology, “What Fears Become”
with work upcoming in Potomac Review, Hurricane Review and Pinyon.