Dan Wilcox
The Pussy Pantoum
Following the bright tails down the street
The strays disappeared to back-yard feral or clams digging into sand
Mourned in limping tetrameter rhymes by fine Lady Poets in coffee-house open mics
When you are young you get married to lock in that pussyThe strays disappeared to back-yard feral or clams digging into sand
She arrives late for the theater expects me to pay
When you are young you get married to lock in that pussy
The cat who pukes beneath my bed is the junkie who plays D minor D minor D minor on her broken guitarShe arrives late for the theater expects me to pay
She strolls thru the Season’s passing as if this were her First Communion in drag
The cat who pukes beneath my bed is the junkie who plays D minor D minor D minor on her broken guitar
The paintings on her walls are self-portraits with speculums in mirrorsShe strolls thru the Season’s passing as if this were her First Communion in drag
Then lets the kitten curl in my lap purring like the murmuring of nuns
The paintings on her walls are self-portraits with speculums in mirrors
Each time I take her home she spreads the cleft of California where the Earthquakes are bornThen lets the kitten curl in my lap purring like the murmuring of nuns
I dive into the Promised Land, a mezuzah crowned in curls, find her bitter tears tasting of traif
Each time I take her home she spreads the cleft of California where the Earthquakes are born
The purring against my chest is her pink vibrator that takes her to dreamland
I dive into the Promised Land, a mezuzah crowned in curls, find her bitter tears tasting of traif
When I stroke the electric fur I find new ways to describe coats & tails
The purring against my chest is her pink vibrator that takes her to dreamland
When she feeds her cats in the nude, opens the tuna catfood, I get a hard-onWhen I stroke the electric fur I find new ways to describe coats & tails
We rescued strays then found them homes, they always returned to the streets
When she feeds her cats in the nude, opens the tuna catfood, I get a hard-on
She mourned her cat in a poem about a dead poet, gay & murdered in ThailandWe rescued strays then found them homes, they always returned to the streets
No one laughs when she says her cat is dead
She mourned her cat in a poem about a dead poet, gay & murdered in Thailand
& they all laugh when I say my pussy is goneNo one laughs when she says her cat is dead
Following the bright tails down the street
& they all laugh when I say my pussy is gone
Mourned in limping tetrameter rhymes by fine Lady Poets in coffee-house open mics
Dan Wilcox is the host of the Third Thursday Poetry Night at the Social Justice Center in Albany, N.Y. and is a member of the poetry performance group "3 Guys from Albany". As a photographer, he claims to have the world's largest collection of photos of unknown poets. He has been a featured reader at all the important poetry venues in the Capital District & throughout the Hudson Valley and is an active member of Veterans for Peace.
He also publishes poetry under the imprint, A.P.D. (albany’s poetic device, another pleasant day, etc.). His own poems have been published in Post Traumatic Press 2007, Chronogram, Poetica and most recently in the anthology American Society: What Poets See, in other small press journals and anthologies, on the internet, as broadsides & in self-published chapbooks. His chapbook boundless abodes of Albany is available from Benevolent Bird Press of Delmar, NY. You can read his Blog at dwlcx.blogspot.com.