Can a poem be sexy, hilarious, and get you horny? Do people still
dream about Winona Ryder? Is this woman telling the truth, or just being all
metaphorical ‘n’ shit?
I love to masturbate, especially
After a poem of mine’s accepted in
A literary magazine. Shit —
I open up that letter, smile awhile
And think, “This one goes out to Don,
a total
Tool who I temped for in ’89:
Data-mother-f*cking-entry this.”
Who’s got “inappropriate footwear”
now?
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