We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
I said yes.
Food grew cold on the table.
he said, burn your body.
it is not clean and smells like sex.
it rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.
I love you, I said.
That’s very nice, he said
I like to be loved,
that makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Владимир Корнилов – Нищий
- Steeds of Autumn by Todd H. C. Fischer
- Makers And Creatures by Vernon Scannell
- Moonrise by Sylvia Plath
- Point Of View by Shel Silverstein
- Black Cat by Rainer Maria Rilke
- Villonaud for This Yule poem – Ezra Pound poems
- The Lady And The Earthenware Head by Sylvia Plath
- Владимир Британишский – Письмо
- Greengrocer by Robert McNamara
- Epigrams against the Earl of Galloway by Robert Burns
- Epigram—The Toad-eater by Robert Burns
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 45. The baby new to earth and sky poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Hymn Before Action by Rudyard Kipling
- re_word by RD McManes
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
