Two Poems And An Anecdote

 by Joseph Hargraves

 

First Orgasm

 

My first orgasm was spontaneous, intense. I was in first grade in a very strict Catholic school. The Nuns carried hand "clickers" to make the clicking sound to audibly warn us of their awareness. We were each given a box of small squares, each with a letter on them, and a board to spell out words with the squares. The Nun left the room. I accidentally knocked my box of letters on the floor. I was terrified, picking them up as quickly as I could. I was on the floor when the nuns clicker went off, she was right outside the door. I started cumming, and cumming and picking up the letters.

 

Then every day I would drop my box of letters when the Nun left the room. It worked for a long time- but due to practice I got too fast at picking up the letters. I had to know there was a chance I would get caught. Knowing I was not facing a beating I stopped with the letters.

 

 

Pretty Legs

She walked the Park, eyes straight ahead- dress: ripped burlap and safety pins. She wore black boots coated with glitter. On the back calf of each leg she had a tattoo of one word of jail-house inked letters: Fuck You.

Writer's Block

 

I put my dick into her cunt hoping
to trigger a poem I go up and
down thinking of metrics biting nipples
my heart's beating faster she's looking at
her cigarettes I'm not into it she's
pretending to come I'm thinking about
onomatopoeia I fuck her hard
I'm doing this for art she's my 20
dollar muse I pull it out and tell her
to suck it she's a compliant Venus
I'm thinking about AIDS her pussy stinks
she has track marks on her legs I can't come
she looks bored I get up pay and decide
to go home jerk-off and write a sonnet

 

Joseph Hargraves has been reading French poetry and writing a small essay on Shakespeare's first 20 Sonnets. His favorite philosopher is Ludwig Wittgenstein, so he has been catching up on reading him. But one of his biggest joys this week was taking 250 milligrams of Oxy-Contin and re-reading Proust's "On Ruskin and Others" (now more frequently referred to as "On Reading." It is brilliant, and explains his relationship to reading, and lack of relationship to the living.