Two Poems

Gas Station Fuck Boy

 

I love the way you handle that gas pump, 

or Boo, you got a man? I wouldn’t let 

a girl as fly as fuck as you out my 

warm bed. I wouldn’t do you wrong; I swear— 

I promise, girl. I saw the way you looked 

at me. I saw the way you smiled. I know

I’m not the only man on Earth to note

the way you blush, the way you pump, the way 

you stand—one hand on hip, one hand on trunk. 

Oh, girl. You think you’re better than this man 

who would find peace between your breasts, your legs? 

I would have made you holla girl; I would

have made you plead, send pics of dick so big. 

I’m not angry. You’re fat and crazy, girl. 

I hate your feminist ass, legs, and breasts. 

I hate the way you handle that gas pump 

as if no one ever taught you how to 

stroke a cock.

 

***

No Fetish Here

 

On March 22, 2018 Sasha Ingber reports for NPR, “The battle over firearms has officially entered the digital realm. YouTube announced that it will place more restrictions on firearms videos hosted on its website, and the move has angered some gun enthusiasts who are now publishing their content on a large porn site.”

 

Because I need to flex my writing guns—

those same slender muscles bared in good porn,

because there’re no batteries for my bullets,

and cause I’m not sure if I give a fuck

who I offend anymore or if gods

permit pleasure in this America.

 

How do you define “great,” America?

Ammosexuals stroking their hard guns;

bringing back prayer and pledge, guns under God;

burning books; shaming sluts, but watching porn 

in the comfort of our homes as we fuck

and lubricate our asses for bullet

 

entry; or the spent shells from hot bullets

littering hallways across America—

glittering from sea to shining fucking

sea? Could it be those magazines and guns

we fetishize and hide below beds like porn?

Please stop sending hopes and prayers; your god

 

stopped listening long ago. Tweet at god;

maybe they will retweet. Bite the bullet

and lay those characters bare like free porn.

You never know who in America

might be reading or watching, might love guns

more than anything else in the world too. Fuck!

 

What do our children have to do? They fuck-

ing laid down their lives for this one right. God

damn, let that sink in while you clean your gun

and load your magazines, thirty bullets

at a time. This is great, America.

Keep your cocks hard, your guns, your revenge porn.

 

Keep machismo as big and hard as porn

cock. Don’t let a little blood spilt halt fuck-

ing over our children. America

the shit out of those weapons. Guns, Cocks, God—

In that order. Don’t forget the bullets

that got us here, ones no longer in guns.

 

Turn your guns into white boy porn. Moan, Oh, God

as you fuck over children to buy bullets.

This is America. No fetish—just guns.

Michelle Aucoin Wait is an MFA (Poetry) candidate at University of Nevada, Reno. Her work is forthcoming in The Meadow.

 

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