In Your Fish Helmet | Sarah Menefee
You might assume there are TWO n's in Menefee, but just like Menefee's poetry, you'd be short-changing yrself assuming anything! Like my junior college health ed professor once said, "Don't assume. It only makes an ASS out of U and Me." Wait, my health ed "professor" was a complete ASS. What am I saying? Who cares! No, he really was. If I can digress, this guy was teaching junior college health ed courses and a large part of his agenda for the class was to tell us young, small town, easily influenced, dumbasses that couldn't get directly to a 4year college that homosexuality was wrong, and other such wonderful bits of "wisdom". What a complete piece of shit. I wish I could remember that fucker's name so I could call him out.Anyway, you know what isn't anything close to a complete piece of shit, and you know what holds to its core a real sense of wisdom, empathy, reality, and human compassion? Yes, sirs and madams, that is this book, IN YOUR FISH HELMET, by Sarah Menefee. This is a book of personal, direct, and musical poetry. You'll probably want to put yr teeth right into the paper. Just know that if you ruin yr copy by trying to devour it, I am not responsible for replacing it.
I think this book is something like 28 pages or something. Who knows! Do you really care how LONG the book is? Get over yrself.
________________________
chrome
someone who came to me the other night
was the one whose tall truck cab
I climbed into: picked me up somewhere
when I was a teenage girl
we kissed and made out: then we talked: I was afraid to go all the way
I completed it the other night: he took out his fine cock
and we fucked: forty-odd years later
the same emotional time
I married one
a truck driver become a gambler
too illiterate and proud to work
how bright with chrome it was
how big!
how did he find me again?
there was no bully in him: so fucked-up
something human was said: and kind
I’m a girl of eleven: the one
of fifteen or seventeen
in a constant fever: sex and romance
a wild and mysterious thing
forbidden: my secret
and there he comes again
and I’m not afraid
running downtown
under the day moon: round mother-of-pearl
I am fourteen
.
.
Labels: In Your Fish Helmet, Sarah Menefee
posted by Logan Ryan Smith @ 10:27 PM
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