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Napoleon to Josephine
from Linda Smukler's Home In Three Days. Don't Wash.
 

I am driving to you and I will drive all the way to New York / through the long round of the earth the plains / the wheat / through the hills of Ohio and the darkening cities of Pittsburgh and Philadelphia and Trenton / don't wash / I am listening to music loud / I can't stop / I am driving right into you with my foot my heart my fist / the faster I go the closer I am to you / I only slow down for police cars hidden behind the corners of the highway / behind well-placed trees and planned hillocks / I won the last battle / I won in all my short and skinny frame / at least 1500 hearts / because of you they saw me / because of you they saw what I have to offer / they cried in ecstacy when I tore off their clothes / they cried when I sliced open their throats / they cried when they saw everything I can give you / they wanted my hardness the curl of my lip / they wanted the murderer in me / don't wash / I want a weeks worth of you wet / I want the same underwear the same sour smell / layers of it thick / the soak and musk of you / I too am acquiring mud and the scum of desire / my cock has not come down yet from thinking about you / through the entire days of battle don't wash / it's becoming night now / I see pinks and blue a deer by the side of the road / I'm driving south now into the constant drench of you the earth on my left shoulder / don't wash don't wash the books out of your hands / don't wash the telephone you've held between your chin and my mouth / don't wash away the meal you had this morning the orange juice on your chin / don't wash the history of the breaths you have taken in my absence out of your mouth / I want to know them / all the churches and all the stores smell me as I go by / they smell my desire and the force of my lips / they smell how I hold my breath the inside of your shoes / that white layer now at the fold where your thigh touches your labia that punk / your hair matted waiting / wait that long that much / I want you not to move and therefore not to live except to feel the force of my hand on your forehead / around your jaw / taste my mouth / yellow lines / white lines / a horse in the road / I am not tired / I will drive through the night / I will not eat / the dirt still caked around my fingernails / this is what they want all of them / they smell what happens with you / that I a woman / have something to offer a woman that I have something to take her with / do not wash / you will crawl over me / with the mud of your days / with all the slime and smell and wild leaves of them / and I will fill myself on the sourness of your ass and your cunt as they ride between my thumb and forefinger / I will lick you clean / all of that will be mine / I have fasted for days waiting


Finally / I will wash you and you will rise out of the bath / sweet smelling / to sleep and wake again / perhaps you will wake to tell me how much I stink because I have not washed even longer than you you will say: / you think you can come in here looking like that? / you think you can come in here with the blood of all those women on your hands? you think that you can tear apart the world and then come to tear me apart? / you think that you can seduce everyone with your words and then come and ravish me? / no / not now / not with your stinking lousy little man self / how small you are / how thin how unbelievably proud / how wretched / those arms couldn't fuck a pigeon / could they? / those lights / that stop sign / this fork in the road / you would have me? / how could you walk into our house this way?


 
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Linda Smukler
 




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