I am a girl
I Am a Girl
by jennifer knox
with a very big dick. Actually
I am a little bird-girl with a very,
very big dick. It’s bigger than my
wing span though I’m flightless.
My dick’s so big it must be checked
at the airport. No, that’s a joke
and no jokes this time. I really need
to tell you right now about my dick:
how it is (good…big) but especially
what’s behind it: curtain draws back:
a cave, like the innards of a geode,
the walls wink and beep tiny lights.
You can’t fuck it unless you’re made
of numbers. No adhesive sticks. It flew
millions of miles and years through
fires to get here and hide. Why—I
don’t know. I’m telling you this because
I must be ready for the crow with God
knows what behind the big pussy
strapped to its face.
My friend, Jes, used to draw butterflies where they were just dicks with wings. I used to think that was so unladylike. I like this poem- it reminds me of Smokey a little bit.
Very nice. Very George Saunders-esque.
Why so few comments lately?
Good question. Don’t know why there’s a lack of comments. That always bugged me. I wish I could comment on every poem like I used to, but I’m starting some new projects right now and my day job has kept me under the thumb. I’ll make more of an effort.
I thought this was porn poetry at first but got to reading and damn, this goes deep into the sexual psyche. First stanza seems all testosterone with a girl and her strap-on (to be acknowledged on a different level?)…then the 2nd stanza seems about the female ‘organ’, which is less appreciated yet even so most majestic. But i’m drawing a blank on ‘the crow’…which is slang, perhaps? I’ll sleep on it. Goodnight.
I’ve eaten crow.
…the crows were calling his name, thought Caw.
hmmm. that crow..ok.
I’ll bet Mort Drucker would have some funny skit for this discussion, i am mad with envy…
fucking incredible, loving this site!