Tag Archives: adult

Pulling It Out From Inside

By Brandi Wells

I open my front door and there’s no
outdoors, only a theater full of people, all
screaming at the same time because a half-
dressed girl has just been gutted. After
screaming, they keep eating popcorn and
drinking soda, because no one has been
hurt and not much has changed. But there
was one moment when everyone released
their tension with a scream and that
experience made me feel better about my
boyfriend drunk-fucking his ex and my
mother telling me my haircut made me
look like a boy. I open and close the front
door until the girl’s intestines are wrapped
around her head, tied neat in a bow,
dripping sloppy down her face and neck.

Brandi Wells

Brandi Wells has poems in the Foliate Oak, Apocryphal Text, Slab, Blaze Vox, and other Journals. She is a graduate of Georgia Southern University having majored in Writing, Linguistics and English. This poem was first published in Night Train. For more of Brandi Wells visit God Is A Giant Crab.

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Dunk his head into a bucket of
saliva. He hasn’t learned as yet
that passion must be restrained.
Nobody croons these days but he
croons to her. He snaps his fingers
like Marvin Gaye — taking us back
to a time for sexual healing. The
room in his brothel is Purple Haze.
Fifty or more years of cigarettes
left in ashtrays burning. She
wraps her legs around his torso
and starts to gyrate. She works
him with knowledge. Hips melting in
to his. She bobs down –- way down.
He moans. She chuckles. We watch.
She grins. A few minutes of passion,
and nothing is left to show of it, but
her hand wiping the side of her
mouth -– swallowing.

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Adult Movie

By Francis Anthony Govia

Take off you slip and brassiere.
Take off your nylon stockings
and cotton panty
and let us look at you.
Let us see the bad slope
of your belly,
and that naughty mound of pubic hair.
Let us see if your ass is still taut
like a guitar string
or if it’s just hanging there.

Turn around woman.
Turn around not once, but two
or three times.
Turn around fast
And turn around slow.
Now take a hard look at him
while you are turning.
What do you feel, woman?
Do you feel game?
What will we see differently
in this picture frame?

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Bad Medicine

By Francis Anthony Govia

I saw this girl practically naked on
the train. I fantasized about making
love to her. I took home the image
of her breasts, ass, and long legs.
I splayed these out on my bed, and
ejaculated into my hands. Then I
went to the bathroom — allowed a
steady stream of cold water to run
over my body, and washed myself
with a cake of Ivory soap.
Feeling refreshed, I put on a pair of
shorts, and sat down to watch TV.
My neighbor knocked on the door.
She is one of those fat types with a
triple chin, and flesh that hangs
down her thighs like coiled rope.
She wanted to talk for a while so I
invited her in.
We talked and talked. We talked
about the recession. We talked about
Russia. We talked about her old beat
up car. We even talked about the
Pope. All this time we were talking,
she kept glancing at the fine hair on
my chest, and the dark outlines of
my crotch. I had neglected to put on
a brief, so there she was sizing up
my shaft — judging whether I was
large or small. The hell with the
woman! She had her sights on my
manhood and I didn’t like it!
So I turned off the TV — muttered
something about being tired — and
pusher her out of the house. About a
half an hour later, I heard her singing
in the shower.

Bad Medicine was first published by Kota Press.

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