Cami Park


In Confessional, Poetry, Sex on August 10, 2009 at 12:03 am

I am so achy

waiting for the world to come back to me

or for me to come back to the world

No one to tell these stories to

only others’ stories to tell

No way of telling where

or how

these things will always ever end up

Cotton field panorama

excerpt from FOR ORTS
by Ander Monson

I think of sex & of Godzilla with the wake of detritus that trails behind
his fiery gaze—millions of extension cords, telephone line & fiber (think
cereal, think sincere & serial addictions; repeat) optic cable (so hot,
that Godzilla, that I can dial him up, that I can give into
his new sex games, that big-ass monster Yes). I am so tight
I cannot speak. This yes this rash of it this gush. Reply, then rinse.
Repeat. I think of cream & a monster foot set down on it & thus
it is in me. I am this print fossilized in Nivea. I wait to be filled in
with whatever comes next. I hope it looks like love.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s