Measuring my life out in Coffee Spoons
Once upon a time I wrote a poem. Well, I've written many poems, but this poem, although it has a title is known widely as "The Poem." I wrote it in 1989, on deadline to write a 16 line, 4 stanza poem in iambic pentameter for Rodney Jones' 200-level poetry workshop, just after finding my ex-boyfriend (who lived next door) schmoozing with my new roommates on my front porch. It is clear from the content that even though more than a year had passed since the breakup, I was still a little bitter. In fact, it is clear from the first line:
Love Song #2
I wanted to rip off your balls last night,
But first I wanted to fuck you to
Show you how I've learned to be, I mean
How I've learned to suck and to fuck and to
Take charge of a man and make him want me.
I've pictured you tied and bound and blinded
Lying naked with your tender parts exposed
I've wanted to take each piece of you and
Mark it with my teeth and make you scream my
Name. Then, with tortoise speed, I'd
Slice the membrane that holds you together
And suck back the blood that you've stolen from me
I've prayed every night for some thirteen months
And I've tasted your blood in my mouth
I've wanted to hurt you, hold you, maul you,
Kill you; choke you with your own jewels.
Yeah, so I had a few unresolved issues. We submitted this assignment anonymously (I believe it was the first submission for this workshop and he thought we'd be more comfortable). As a student worker in the English Department, one of my main responsibilities was to mimeograph class materials. I had just finished duplicating the packet of poetry for this workshop when Rodney walked in; he picked up a copy and said to me, "Which one of these did you write?" Eventually, I told him. His eyes bugged out of his head and said, "YOU wrote that?" He then told me how he'd shown it to several graduate students and had called it a "strong poem."
As the days progressed, several grad assistants stopped me in the office to talk to me about "The Poem" (at that time titled "Praying Mantis"). Many years later it was published in a short-lived local alternative literary magazine. I was asked to read it at a fund-raiser poetry reading. After publication, my fame grew to tremendous proportions in the Carbondale area. Guys I didn't know would come up to me in bars and say "You're the girl who wrote the poem!" and then asked me to recite it to his buddy or buddies or the guy getting married next week. I was that kind of famous.
Later I published it at Uber.nu.
Most recently, I recorded it for a guy who collects folk arcana, and I can't remember how this goes, but my recording of "The Poem" is likely to end up in the Library of Congress with the rest of his collection.
Submitted by TransDutch
at 4/10/2008 12:04:47 PM- I don't know what it means exactly about me, but I've considered asking permission to recite this poem at an open mic, giving credit afterwards. I think it would be fun to try to get the audience to believe the words coming from me. Except the only open mic I perform at regularly anymore would rather I didn't use one of the words in your poem.
Submitted by christy
at 4/10/2008 3:41:38 PM- I've been giving this some thought (assuming I know which is the offending word). Perhaps you could replace the word with a trite "bleep" or maybe substitute some completely outrageous one-syllable word. If you can come up with something, you are welcome to recite it -- but, you'll have to let me know when so I can see this for myself...
How well I remember that literary gem and the involuntary *wince* it evokes.