Bastard Child Turns 30

by bluepervina - © 2002

In school no one knew you
while you gave all to know

With jeers always ringing
and the good girls so grown

You pocketed praises
as jewels on a chain

And you got what they gave
Always conscious of waist

*

So thickly and sickly
so wickedly you spilled

Your breasts from your tight top
mere cottonish jail

No threads could dare hold you
nor make a disguise

To hide was to suffocate
restraint meant you died

*

Now, though haze inside trundles
your soul off to sleep

Light dims yet still flickers
and a nerve is yet keen

Spiting breath drawn as borrowed
and hate grown in guilt

Gratitude as a card-house
no sane life can build

*

The pleasure of grinding
and sucking, and sliding

Is fading as aging
dims the brightest stitched twine

And the hooting, rum-shooting
broke-heel nights that call

Somehow swirl less monsoon now
as you thrash through the swamp

*

And no mother, no father
no preacher can guide you

Nor bartender, nor cabbie
nor boy in a coupe

While, yes, your blood rages
still thrilled at the rub

Trot-line-easy to get it
mere fingers, light strum

*

Bearing eyes that will follow
and mouths that descend

Yet a pleasure beyond that
now calls you back in

Building pressures long-buried
now rising, now raized

As your girl-life, that fuck-life
your years rip away

*

And the quiet that fills you
above all din burning down

Is a door flung like heart valves--
love flows in, doubt floods out.

Your feedback is welcomed!

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