John Roth is a starving poet by day and nude model by night. His work
has most recently appeared, or is forthcoming, in Aberration Labyrinth,
Brevity Poetry Review, and Bone Parade. He currently lives in Ohio.
From my top 10 wish list
10. I want to play extreme water polo,
leaping from a hot-foam jacuzzi.
8. I want to play Sandra Bullock and win pageants
in my sequin gown, decked with pink boa feathers.
7. I want to wear pointy rhinestone tiaras
that dig into my scalp like a cranial plate.
6. I want to snap my brittle fingers off
like a snow-wrapped tree branch,
5. count the digit’s tick on each phantom hand
while organizing a chrome-gun bouquet.
4. I want the stench of smoldering steel,
to slip a bullet into its quiet bedchamber.
3. I want to strap a jackknife to my ankle
as I watch its silver blade slither along the ground.
2. I want to eat a stale vending machine sandwich,
just to hurl my guts up in the toilet like splash art.
1. I want the world to burn. Fire spreading
like a rash, and I’m the only one with ointment.
The selfish lover comes with an instruction manual
Give me a needle
and I will string your eyes
through a coin-hole.
Give me a razor
and I will skim the gums
of your teeth.
Give me a match
and I will turn a single hair
into a candle wick.
Give me a toenail
and I will use it as a shield
to plate my skin.
Give me a key
and I will unlock your jaw
so you may speak.
Give me your body
and I will bend each perfect joint
into a mannequin’s.
Give me your love
and I will break it every time
like a bisque doll.
Give me a knife
and I will shuck your tender heart
straight from its shell.
Give me even the slightest
opening, and I will exploit your kindness
until you never know of it
again.
From my top 10 wish list
10. I want to play extreme water polo,
leaping from a hot-foam jacuzzi.
9. I
want to play the sadistic dentist, who
yanks
teeth with pronged garden tools.8. I want to play Sandra Bullock and win pageants
in my sequin gown, decked with pink boa feathers.
7. I want to wear pointy rhinestone tiaras
that dig into my scalp like a cranial plate.
6. I want to snap my brittle fingers off
like a snow-wrapped tree branch,
5. count the digit’s tick on each phantom hand
while organizing a chrome-gun bouquet.
4. I want the stench of smoldering steel,
to slip a bullet into its quiet bedchamber.
3. I want to strap a jackknife to my ankle
as I watch its silver blade slither along the ground.
2. I want to eat a stale vending machine sandwich,
just to hurl my guts up in the toilet like splash art.
1. I want the world to burn. Fire spreading
like a rash, and I’m the only one with ointment.
The selfish lover comes with an instruction manual
Give me a needle
and I will string your eyes
through a coin-hole.
Give me a razor
and I will skim the gums
of your teeth.
Give me a match
and I will turn a single hair
into a candle wick.
Give me a toenail
and I will use it as a shield
to plate my skin.
Give me a key
and I will unlock your jaw
so you may speak.
Give me your body
and I will bend each perfect joint
into a mannequin’s.
Give me your love
and I will break it every time
like a bisque doll.
Give me a knife
and I will shuck your tender heart
straight from its shell.
Give me even the slightest
opening, and I will exploit your kindness
until you never know of it
again.
On
the verge of a total collapse
The
pillar of faith
was
knocked down
and
replaced
by
a shopping mall.
The
catechistic pylon sank
into
black gutter muck.
Swollen
eyelids deadbolt
when
pupils grow
a
pica for rust shavings.
The
infant teething a rattle
snake. Suckling milk
from
the fang. We played
hacky-sack
with an
unpinned
grenade.
The
adrenaline rush, awarded
for
a brainless stunt.
All
of the combustible furniture
was
thrown away
for
posterity. No one helped
to
put the fires out.
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