The man kept a shotgun at the door and two rifles hidden where no one could
see them. The bullets were kept in cases. In fact, everything except the shotgun
was secured in a trunk & taken out only during hunting season. Discovering this
after a night together, the woman stood up and squealed. I can’t believe you
didn’t tell me! He laughed. You don’t need a gun to do what we did.
WITH A FORCE MORE BRUTAL
I eat alone.
Fuck through it all
using my own hands.
Adjustments can lead to personal maturity and evolution.
Lots of food falls out of our hands
and I wonder
whether I have a disease or if I’m dying.
Or why that piece of food—why now?
The food is eaten or is eventually thrown away
or swept into the dust pan.
I close the trash bag
by pulling a red string
strangling its neck
with a force more
brutal than I realized I had the capacity for.
But it happens so fast
I wonder if I’d have the
same brutality were I being
if you tried fucking me
against my will.
It’s funny because I find you attractive, though totally dorky,
and what a strange turn of events – a date rape and murder.
I keep thinking about
cutting holes into things,
so we can start to look
at each other
so I can start wondering
and what’s just a monkey
scratching its asshole.