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Archive for the ‘Winnie Star’ Category

an ass poem by Winnie Star

seat cushion held the shape of your ass
i sat there, too
but my ass never seemed to make a dent

atop the imprint of your ass was that girl’s ass
(imprint now of two assess)
and you took her ass to your ass
along with your heart and mind
for what it was worth
back in the day

shit, man, my ass was worth more than her ass any day
you asshole…

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don’t let me bother
the place where you reside
ringing out
truths

yes, various versions
stories I’ve heard
nonetheless

stayed awake
waited for the door to open
saw you in the dark
smelled your alcohol pussy breath
lies

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in 1998
you decided to roam
and our home became
two feet less than perfect
I laid out a spiral bound
wrote some words
drew breasts and labia
over the pages
later I heard
your dream came true
and a young woman
tasted good for you
that year
I wrote more, then
drew cunts
and cut them into shards
to line the drawers of your old desk
by November
lanced pages had red smudges
atop drawings of
broken hearts
didn’t mean to write a book
but nothing worked better
in 1998

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“Buffalo Bill” hitched up with
the rodeo just
outside of our town
we knew Bill’s type:
he bothered the locals with
his braggart ways,
the cheap saddle look, and the
haggard hack horse he rode around
(never mind the improper looks
he gave the ladies in our town)
“Sally the Chieftain,”
sole owner of the “Eat then Ride” café
warned Bill
“Look at me that way again and
you’ll be ridin’ outta here with your
ass pinned to the tail of that donkey!”
Bill’s looks didn’t bother me
(never been a real lady, anyway)
and I bedded him down
he showed me horse
and saddle
riding skills
and reining
fancy what a rodeo man
can do for a girl

Copyright by Winnie Star

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Fasten Your Seat Belt, Darlin’

subject me not
to the plot of your love calling me out of my car
for coffee and chat that will stimulate only
solid fear and
more anger than cheer, surely
don’t yell my name or whistle me in
let me keep drivin,’ keep thrivin’

better to be tied in a knot of my own
than to the strings of your old game

© Winnie Star

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