By Eileen Myles Eileen Myles
I’m playing with the devil’s cock
it’s like a crayon
it’s like a fat burnt crayon
I’m writing a poem with it
I’m writing that down
all that rattling heat in this room
I’m using that
I’m using that tingling rattle
that light in the middle of the room
it’s my host
I’ve always been afraid of you
scared you’re god and something else
I’m afraid when you’re yellow
white it’s okay. Transparent cool
you don’t look like home
my belly is homeless
flopping over the waist of my jeans like an omelette
there better be something about feeling fat
what there really is is a lack of emptiness
I’m aiming for that empty feeling
going to get some of that
and then I’ll be back

Source: Poetry (December 2013).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2013
 Eileen  Myles


Eileen Myles was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1949, was educated in Catholic schools, graduated from the University of Massachusetts-Boston in 1971, and moved to New York City in 1974 to be a poet. She gave her first reading at CBGB's, and then gravitated to St. Mark's church where she studied with Ted Berrigan, Alice Notley and Bill Zavatsky. She has published more than a dozen volumes of poetry and fiction including Not . . .

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SUBJECT Living, The Body, The Mind, Arts & Sciences, Poetry & Poets

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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