 | someday |
 | |
i will come for you
and we will go
away
those left behind
will talk about us
our callous hearts
our selfish desire
fugitives, we will fuck
our way free of them
while fucking them over
fucking convention
fucking expectation
fucking our hearts out
like they knew we would
like the said we would
fucking will be
our new religion
your cock will be my communion
my cunt will be your baptism
and we will be happy
like they knew we wouldn’t
like they said we wouldn’t
(Just a little poem I wrote.)
xo, Angela
Even when Angela is blatantly sexual, she is an erotic provocateur. She uplifts me. I will always fly with her…forvever face to face, soul to soul. I love her.
I love this poem. I love this girl.
So, Jeremy. So are we going to rumble in alley or what?
While superficially simple, this is on closer analysis a deceptively complex little poem. Ms. St. Lawrence has cleverly referenced a relationship in this work between herself and an unnamed person or persons (See line 3 and its reference to “we”).
Who is this unknown “we”. Is it you? Me? Or all of us? I’m sure many see this unknown person as themselves. I suspect its either all of us or none of us.
I also like the little romp she takes us through. First there is anticipation. “Someday” she will come for us. Then there is a taste of something verboten — we will be “fugitives”. But our flight will lead us somewhere. We’ll eventually achieve “freedom” and with it, finally, redemption — as the shared sexuality she extols is to end in something cathartic and spiritual. (See lines 18-20).
This is a very good poem. Simultaneously, it is personal yet impersonal, wantonly sexual, but also even a bit religious. There is a lot going on in it. I liked it a lot. And I’m not even trying to suck up.
I have read and re-read this poem about 100 times now…not sure how to respond. Like so oftentimes….Angela really knows how to pour out her emotions, thus also pulling some out of us in the process. I am in unending awe of her writing ability. Not to mention, she is just an awesome friend! Thanks for sharing another masterpiece, Angela.
Damn! How do you do that? And not just once, but over and over again.
Pervert Savant’s analysis is right on – but I never had an opportunity to intellectualize about what made the poem work. I was a puddle when I had finished reading it. Beautiful, Angela.