Cerebral Contents:

Update for 05.13.08:

Male Model by Phil Doran

Set to Replay by Willie Smith

Backsliding by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Tree by G. David Schwartz

05.05.08:

Disintegration by Don Hucks

Five Feet and Building by Joel Van Noord

Grocery Aisle by Richard Lighthouse

Cross the Road by Ashok Niyogi

04.29.08:

Lookalikes by Phil Doran

Dinner by Brandi Wells

The Modern Covenant by Daniel E. Wilcox

Death by Onions by Michael Frissore

04.21.08:

Future's Children by Kimberly Raiser

Identity Theft by George Anderson

The Datists by Adam Engel

A Great Deal of Money by Justin Hyde

04.14.08:

Mr. Papaya and Dale by Eric Suhem

California by Caroline Imreibe

Aftermath of Vehement Argument #1,068 by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Trip-Hammer Vitality by Lisa Nickerson

04.07.08:

The Florence of Basel, or Why Readers of Nietzsche Need to Read Burckhardt by Jeff Crouch

Slideshow by Miles J. Bell

Friends of the Poet by Sean C. Bowen

Picture Perfect by Leah Baldwin

03.24.08:

The Streak by Jeremy Hendrix

Grab Your Butts by Emme Hor

Far Away by Ashok Niyogi

Staring Down a White-Tailed Doe by Aleathia Drehmer

03.17.08:

The Hairbrush by Vernard Kennedy

Dog Days of Winter by Niall Berkeley

Poem From My Grave by Michael Lee Johnson

Mashed Potatoes and Hamburgers by Matt Finney

03.10.08:

Hard Work by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Jetty Cake Pigs by J.D. Nelson

I'm Quiet in Bed by Moctezuma Johnson

Tequila Shakes by Richard Lighthouse

Born Again

by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

How do I feel?
Like that condom you just threw in the trash—

I've never seen a man jump out of bed
and head for the shower so fast

I didn't exactly expect you to stay
for tea and crumpets,
but I'm not a leper, either.
I almost expected to find a $20 bill on the dresser

I'm not saying that it was anything
to write home about,
but it would be kind of nice
to just shoot the shit for awhile afterwards,
to give some afterthought and semblance
to the act of fucking,
instead of two faceless strangers
searching for a bit of empty passion
in their lives during a period of doubt
and insecurity,
when the world seemed to be crashing
around their ears, so that way,
should they ever bump into each other in public,
she could be remembered as more than just
a wet slot he filled during his busy, hectic day,
and she could think:
"yeah, I remember him; he was the one
with three mortgages and five kids,
and kisses that almost made me feel
immortal."

______________________________________
posted 12.03.07.

Emergent Properties:

Main

F.A.Q.

About

Archives (alphabetical)
Archives (chronological)

Links - Updated 05.05.08

Books - Updated 05.05.08

Pandemic Poetry

Taglines