Evening Will Come: A Monthly Journal of Poetics (NSFW—Issue 45, September 2014)

Melissa Broder
Birth Curtain & Skin History

Birth Curtain

I am such a cut cock

Bless your mother never cutting your cock

You are what it looks like to be real

What did I look like when I was real?

I vow to never go there again

To the land of the silent faeries

They were singing but I couldn’t hear

I’m unreal now but still can’t hear

The faeries judge me for my fantasies

They should have saved me from the real

I see other people’s trashdreams

My fantasies are so pure

Once I never kissed an uncut cock before

Now I see yours flying around the room

You should uncut vomit for me

I want to touch your back and feel you burping

Fly around the room on your uncut puke

The room is black and in my ears

Faeries keep calling me

I can be deaf and they’re still singing

Skin History

Innovated dick and fake saints, lied ass off.

Self-sacrifice as squealing pig and application of fate eraser.

Doves flew in eye, imbibed no water.

Hid from self under self under self, found stars.

Male nights, some grace, the mystery of swells.

No peach asshole, pussy jelly, lessons power and fire.

Foamed want, eradicated egg.

Something. Died.