EverydayAngelKarie
Joined: 07 Mar 2007
Posts: 761
Location: Lakewood, CA
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Fucking Frankenstein’s Monster
Mostly, I'm into women,
but Frankenstein’s Monster turns me on.
Like a dead racecar driver whose
adrenaline-pumped body
reanimates after a crash.
I’m talking about the constantly
dumbfounded Hollywood monster.
The grimy fellow that makes my heart
flip and coyote howl at the site of anything green,
bolted, and dumb-as-a-sand-crab-
who-touches-fresh-water-and-keels-over.
My body quivers at the thought
of this marvelous monster man
cowering every time I strike a match.
Of course, he’s not really a man,
and especially not a woman.
So he makes me think twice
about my sexuality.
His poorly sewn flesh
mouthwaters my tongue
and I imagine licking rotten skin
off his moldy chest and chewing it up
in orgasmic bliss.
He would grumble and moan,
unkink his rigor mortis arms,
wrap cemetery fingers around my neck,
and snap it like a wishbone.
(recently published in the first issue of Prospective: A Journal of Speculation - Werewolves and Other Bitches)
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