” the only thing about man that is admirable is how well he bleeds”
the fancy
i love it when a good joke gets extended. when the trope keeps giving after repeated use. this time i think a few friends and i have come up with the funniest one since ART CLOWN - RA WASHINGTON EATS WHITE WOMEN!
how funny is that?
this is how it works as myth -
you date someone, over time the relationship sours- you get the blame, not because you and them don’t mix well, or you fell apart from each other, but its a blatant pursuit that always destroys. not that any woman i’ve dated, white or black has ever been destroyed but if it keeps happening, then it becomes a pattern. the historical irony is not lost on anyone involved, but the fact is men get blamed if the relationship goes south even if we did not do anything diabolical. perhaps the guy just sucks at relationships, or that he was boring. it always has to be some type of ” he lied to me” or ” he never listened” okay, well that one is valid.
this poem is written from a woman’s point of view (as best as i can manage)
and what has left us
?
that so good ICK, the coupling alltogether in speak
easy as pain, soft lilting skirts of words
we speak plan rides
easy? did i say that already?
there were moments of black chafing - we couldn’t wait.
it had been the whole of our sex,
these past and few cocks
that demand nothing.
that sucked at my energy
ancient beasts, tyrants of time
kill women
expectations are weapons
if is not their shirt ties
it is not their claws
not their shallow lips
their trumpets and ego tale
me,
i’m coming in the arms of a beer
in the nubbed fingers of a swagger
blank eyes of a boy.
(men have always been extinct.)
!
for those first urges,
the telling eyes
for those awestruck in minutia
for the deadly crow
in this deep rung hole
my hair is fences for each passing year
here’s how it grades out when put through the gender genie =
the words in brackets are the words the genie scores
Keywords: [and] [what] has left us that so good ick [the] coupling alltogether in speak easy [as] pain soft lilting skirts of words [we] speak plan rides easy did i say that already there were moments of black chafing [we] could [not] wait [it] had been [the] whole of our sex [these] past [and] few cocks that demand nothing that sucked [at] my energy ancient beasts tyrants of time kill women expectations [are] weapons [if] [is] [not] their shirt ties [it] [is] [not] their claws [not] their shallow lips their trumpets [and] ego tale [me] i am coming in [the] arms of [a] beer in [the] nubbed fingers of [a] swagger blank eyes of [a] boy men have always been extinct for those first urges [the] telling eyes for those awestruck in minutia for [the] deadly crow in this deep rung hole my hair [is] fences for each passing year
Words: 149
(NOTE: The genie works best on texts of more than 500 words.)
Female Score: 187
Male Score: 196
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: male!
try the genie on some of your writing@ gender genie
MORE NOTES, or fragments of notes)
the funny thing about depression is that you don’t feel it coming on. the reasons for it tend to shift as you age. at first when you are young, there is never a depression per se, you bout about trivial thing that seem to be mountains at the time, but rarely is it anything real. and if someone played back the times that you were upset as a child- i could argue you’d be embarassed by some of the situations.
as a teenager the dips become more real. as a adult they become the plots of movies. there is something surreal about it. but why the sleeping? what does the sleeping represent in the metatext of our bodies?
thoughts?
THE HIGH HEELED NIGHT
and what of us that wants to be in love is nature, and what is society? for we are close to mating, the bar scene- everything that is close to us and therefore modern and social is driven by the possibility of arousal. do men bathe because it is been taught over the years to be a crucial piece in the process of getting laid? perhaps if we lived in an asexual world men would not even bother.
and what of women, just the simple idea of the high heel is enough to question what society has done to the foot and its relationship to comfort vs. dating. over the years, we have come to connect the high heel with sexy. the high heel with modern, and in modernity i mean to say - progressive. willing to engage in a one night stand? or a frank discussion about a taboo topic. or the act of breaking another with words.
and while there is so many items that are mass consumed that works this way - i’d have to say its at the top of the list in terms of translating across industrialized nations.
1975 ( a song lyric)
she thought she was invincible
and in some ways she was
thought of herself as forever young
and time proved her true
thought she could predict the future
never had trouble with men
and one day she met her match
with a caddy colored black
cherry smile amber eyes
he made her laugh
and they did the dance of the young
and fell in love
the old women warned her
for they had seen cherry smiles before
but she was invincible
he but the seed there for the slow ride home
oh what magic is this
now i must struggle to raise him
oh where is your smile now
we age day by day to pay for the hour
we live wage to wage
we hit each other with our eyes
and she’ll never know what sealed her fate
for his amber destroys women’s souls
THE DANGE(R) OF FAST BREATHING
*the first page of the new novel. i’m about fifteen pages in, but i like the idea of the two paragraph opening page.
*i wanted to kill her, and i probably would have if i wasn’t a coward. seriously i cannot remember when i wasn’t one. sure there are moments of courage, but mostly just a fire simmer, boil over then fierce, but this is not about fires. this about lies, the ones you never tell and the ones etched along the sides of your eyes.
i cannot remember why we even became entrenched, what drew us together, perhaps i am always lonely, and in that self loathing i seek out challenges. i wish i could stop the pattern, the routine hook-up, the self reflexing delay of common sense. hate has always been my absolute best friend.
and now her.
this will never be objective, writing never is.
