Sunrise I've been fucking him in the bedroom of my mind for about a month now leaving the ruby red curtains wide open but no one can see in no one can see that every time the sun sets he rises for me like up-hill headlights in the fog and the devout Catholic hidden in me always says grace before she eats him Previously published in New Digressions Copyright 2005 Angela M. Mendez |
| bush you have what I am seeking lost in the bush of your genital hair you fly into my head like a dove into the apse of the church I am saved by the acetylene light of You you make me wet even when you aren't around can anyone explain this? Tonight's music is the moans of masturbation muffled magical miraculous tones while my parents sleep across the hall Previously published in Rag Shock 3: Bizarrotica Copyright 2005 Angela M. Mendez |
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Tango as the fog lowers her shawl over the highway giving the headlights an ethereal glow I think of you and ask out loud Is it such a bad thing to want you between my thighs? To be overwhelmed by a need to tango with your tongue? and of course there is no answer Previously published in Poetry Motel (broadside) Copyright 2005 Angela M. Mendez |
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| POEMS BY ANGELA M. MENDEZ |