2 September 2004 | Vol. 4, No. 3
A Morbid Education
In the middle of it, being riven
apart by a finger, by a stiff tongue probing
the blind bone tail of my spine
blind, until I salt like despair
every fetish in the book comes
screaming, Erection!
Little Goat! Little SoftHard
Hunger—here's vomit, says the book, here's urine
here's your blood at the mouth of the absolute—
get fucked!
Don't you wish every nightmare knifed
like this? Pleasure raising
the red welt? Religiously burying
your face hot in virus? I'm living inside
absence like a drum
begging, repeating, I'm a slave and I like it. I'm a slave. What
makes you think you know, adolescent,
what you like? In the Encyclopedia Of Unusual Sex,
excrement is eaten, and mucous, and vomit. Repeat it
to yourself: Shit on me. Oh. Baby. Puke
on my fucking back. Go ahead, laugh. But this
is what some men dream about. Softness
betraying death. Blind choke off the body
ruthless in its own bad breath. Heartless
white molestation—it's midnight
before I'm finished
reading and when finally
I release my own unbroken hymnals
everything safe self-ruins in the frenzy. The first time
I felt true love I was alone;
No one could protect me.
About the author:
Miguel Murphy is the author of A Book Called Rats, a recipient of the Blue Lynx Prize for poetry. His reviews have also appeared in RAIN TAXI.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Miguel Murphy at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 4, No. 3, where "A Morbid Education" ran on September 2, 2004. List other work with these same labels: poetry, editors' select.
