JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

my first sexual experience was of flowers

stamens, pollen, nectar sipping and the like

disinterest unkindled, at nine I saw our bonzo

leapfrogging a neighbor’s bitch and at

st. stephens zoo, a mountain of disgust

an elephant extracting you know what from

another’s you know, i can’t tell you the rest

 

jean pendelton’s sister who was our librarian

climbing a ladder to reach some top shelf book

barely distracted me except to realize how

triangles and string were called oh jesus by

butch segal who was jewish and never went

to church, but what sticks in my memory is

playing spin the bottle and then behind a

closet door inhaling this fragrance of egg sandwich

that joyce mcpherson obviously had for lunch

 

it took me half a century to discover porn

sites but since then quite honestly i’ve

never looked back except for watching tennis

at wimbledon, serena williams serving at

ninety miles an hour