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
- Life, wait for me by Martin Zakovski
- Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 4. by William Cowper
- Robert Burns: The Charming Month Of May:
- Кондратий Рылеев – Гусь и змия
- Владимир Маяковский – Дачный случай
- Владимир Солоухин – В лесу
- Changes by William Barnes
- Blow of an ax by Yosa Buson
- Sacred Epiphany poem – Ammar Nadeem poems | Poems and Poetry
- Алексей Жемчужников – Полевые цветы
- Владимир Маяковский – Долой мешечников (РОСТА №525)
- Additions: The Fire at Tranter Sweatley’s by Thomas Hardy
- Il Penseroso poem – John Milton poems
- Alice Fell, Or Poverty by William Wordsworth
- It’s no use by Sappho
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).
