the unwitting (condom free and proud)

by slipperyspeech

Posted to Action Poetry on 2002-10-30 01:47:00

it has come to this:

enough self stupidity
and bad luck

packed into 23 years
that when i rattle off the regular bullshit

— without true enthusiasm,
even the simple idea of story-telling
has faded from most of the tales,
which are really just thick coloring-book outlines
shaved of detailed,
mercifully bland and wholesome in the reproduction —

in answer to questions that for most people are
perfunctory,

and for me are like stabbing a gall bladder and
forcing my audience to drink the bile
while casually requesting they decline

[smile warm and almost wistful (though, ive learned to cage that look
in others and build fences, knowing the animals inside)]

in reply ive begun to receive, “wow. you are such an interesting person.”

[the smile widens, i bark a laugh that sounds disbelieving but non-committal,
but really means run! you poor, ignorant fuck, before i suck you dry and string
your ears for an anklet]

“no, no, i just have to learn lessons the hard way, get it rammed up my ass a couple of times before i finally get it: “Oh! Damn! Ouch! Never gonna do /that/ again!”

[the requisite laugh from the listening party]

~a warning, a challenge to the laughter that peals as if im joking~
“really, though, i needed it, im still learning, im not that smart and im pretty sick. the worst is that i always place myself in situations where other people are affected by the consequences of my actions.”

… and then it comes, that push away from the negative, the chatter of acceptance, each new welcoming heart believing it’s been an exception and not my own damn fault, that with enough kindness and normalcy, well, ill just shine…

but im fading out the dialouge
and wondering if its in the best interest of everyone to withdrawal
to not take the chance this time
bet it all on the prospect that i /can/ be different,
and turn over in my hands the dagger torn through so many other spines,
draped in flesh, still sticky from the last self-rape
and the residual deaths of all the friendships
it always seems so remarkable
that i don’t have.