Issue
#8 

a poem by Chloe Simonne

Girls do it, too

I like being with myself.
I get an over priced eggnog latte.
I check my email and
I think about working out.

I masturbate.

I clean the kitchen half-heartedly.
I eat eggs.

I masturbate.

I pee.
I write.

I masturbate.

I watch porn.

I masturbate.

A text message interrupts me:
I want to fuck you under my Christmas tree. I am
masterbating and thinking about your pussy.

I tell him that he spelled it wrong, that he meant,
"masturbating."

He doesn't get back to me.
It's pretty funny.

I shower
and go to the bar where I am in love with the bartender.
I bring my Henry Miller book for a conversation topic and in
hope he will think I am smart and then fall in love with me, too.
I also wear a low-cut shirt.

I drink a can of Rainer and a shot of Jameson
Then an apricot ale
Then a whiskey soda.

At ten o'clock, the bad speller decides he wants to come over
Why not, I think, and tell him to meet me at my apartment
We have loud sex to The Pixies.
I drank too much and I can't come.

He keeps asking me if I came.
I feel bad.
I fall asleep immediately afterwards.

In the morning I lie and say I have to work at ten even though
I don't, because I want him to leave.

He leaves and I masturbate to him fucking me and I come hard.

I make coffee and try to write.
This is the kind of shit I come up with.

© by Chloe Simonne
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #8 ~ March 2010    return to top