Eighty-Second Entry

NaPoWriMo is over! No more stress about writing, at least not poetry, and there wasn't that much to begin with. I started the month with an empty slate, with absolutely no ideas and at the end of it I'm completely inspired! I'll definitely be participating next year. And in the meantime I'm gonna write a poem today, and maybe one every day. We'll see.

WARNING!!!!! This poem is not suitable for children of most adults.


Here's my poem:

PURE VOMIT 3

The vomit pail, tin silver
tinged in yellow. a crown
masking liquidated beans.
I grinned mercilessly as I pissed,
dousing the flames of the human penis
I had found smoldering inside.

Squat and disconnected from its host,
the penis, scorched black and a deep
red in many places, soaked with sterile
clear urine, partially nibbled upon
by ants, seemed a subject worthy
of my interest.

How did it get there? I knew it wasn't mine,
as it's skin was a different tone. In my mouth,
with it's squirming white-pink tongue, yellow-
white teeth covered in white mush and pinkish-
orangish gums, bile seemed to wash against
the inside of my lips. I had to do something.
I placed the penis delicately on my tongue.
The ants silently drowned in my saliva,
or else crawled along my gums biting me
in an exquisite and decadent fashion, almost
as if they knew what it was I was looking for,
not that I did. The heft and size and crispness
of its skin surprised me, as did the sharp salt
of the urine and the tasteless crunchiness
of the ants. But in the end of course, I knew
I was being foolish. I knew it would provide
no new information in my stomach, so after
taking one or two good solid bites against
it's tough gristle and cartlidge and swimming
them around as best I could, I, with thumb
and forefinger, fished it out of me and put it
back where I found it.