poetry

The ballad of the whip

For sale, one whip

Hardly used – hardly used

This is not a sad story

Do not be disabused

A man came here and bought it

Yes he did – yes he did

It’s none of my business

Whatever he does

But I could not help but wonder

When he went on his way

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

(That’s called flagellation*)

Whether he bought it to whip others

Or himself– Or himself

***

[*not fellatio]

 

Desire in Chains

You love me, she said. You love me. Just admit you love me.
But she was too early. Because I didn’t love her yet.
And then it was too late.

There aren’t enough containers in the world to hold all of your desires.
We have a container deficit.
Desire, uncontained!
Desire, lost!