Swan
Fuck me before it closes
over wild grass smoothing
like a belly ring, white gold
fingers out on the freeway
for a good time
We say never apart
but they part
I take your legs
and find work
as an atmosphere model
I’d always been good
at allowing atmospheres
to enter me
I of two mouths absorb
more,
like it only mattered
sleeve of fog
disco of mud
the grasses howled
shed silkily pulsing silvery
have the demons ever looked so good
I want you as a cord
in my hand
which is a mouth
A need fat with an apple in its ass
eternal and white gold
which is never enough
I find a house of sleep and air
to dig our days
which are nights
but we don’t mind
the days,
we’re here to lose
Can you siphon off
something to fuck
can you look at me
I find you seated to piss
and sit on your lap
to piss eternally
between you
As long as there’s a poem
I’m walking in God’s path
Now give me your legs
before it closes over
It was a Summer of Heavy
but of course I had to Betray Her
We went to the wrong orgy
we were supposed to give a toast
to welcome every man
of every hour
the way a plant loves another plant
wearing our distaste in long blonde wigs
don’t let your mouth make a check
that your ass can’t cash
my mom always used to say that
empathizing with inanimate objects
a face in wallpaper, the temperament of a lamp
the menacing presence of a doorknob
I’d never seen a cockroach
until the cat swallowed one
choked
coughed
the roach
crawled out whole
should’ve made a little cockroach bed
with a cotton ball pillow
learned to sew
a tiny cockroach nightie
“We’ve been through this!”
my ex husband said,
“the idea that plants
need our care is ~christian.”
I was like don’t ass cash my check
good thing the prize for being married
is all the drinks in the world
an attendee who was interviewed agreed,
“Those girls were at the wrong orgy.”
Rachel Rabbit White is a writer and performer doing the devil's work in New York City. She pens a weekly column at Garage Magazine/Vice about sex scenes in art, literature and film. Her twitter is @rabbitwhite