Self-Fornicated

by Martha Vandella

May 30, 2005

Kiss me, you beast with the golden toes
the arches of your eyebrows like a broken McDonald's sign
the smacky wetness of your lips like the maw
of a paint-stained flower (love me, Venus Flytrap)

Absorb me
swallow me whole
crush my bones with teeth
chewing me like Laffy Taffy

I am whole once again
your are a hole, once again
I fall into you
never hitting bottom

I am a bowel movement
squeezing from your rectum
into the big porcelain void that is you
out of you (into you again)

My heart is like a snake eating itself
or a penis tucked into its owner's butthole
like the disgusting imagery in a Museum of the Grody
and I am the custodian

I am you
you are me
neither of us are welcome
at Open Mic Night anymore

Milestones

1988: Future commune staff photographer Junior Bacon takes a photo that shocks the nation, until experts determine that the Sasquatch-looking thing in the picture is actually future commune editor Red Bagel.

Now Hiring

Experienced Spelunker. Needed to find a way into Ned Nedmiller's office and see if there's anyone still alive in there. Ability to speak Dutch a plus.

Top Reasons Why You Couldn't Have Killed Your Dead Wife

1.	What, and miss the prime Christmas Eve fishing season?
2.	Too busy having extramarital affair to plot murder
3.	Pregnant wife-killing totally against religion
4.	Ha. I wish!
5.	Spirit too crushed from living with soulless bitch for years

Brandy is Dandy
Brandy is dandy and wine is fine but liquor is quicker and vodka divine. Gin makes you sicker and slows down your ticker when you pull down your knickers so more freely to bicker. Thunderbird is a wonder, stirred and Night Train ... (5/9/05)

My Love is Like an Orange
My Love is Like an Orange, all shiny and orange and filled with a citrus burst to quench your lonely thirst. My love is not like porridge or storage or forage For my love is like an orange andâ€¦ Bugger, nothing rhymes with orange.... (4/11/05)

Blown by the Sun
The night air like a cheese, perfumed with sea water A blocky, leaky, laggy cheese coating us all We the three of us tramp through Panama City Selling fake insurance policies for a dollar to The tourists The cops roust us here and there, upon... (4/4/05)