Esther Bubley, Third Avenue, New York, 1951
(via last-picture-show)
Shuntaro Tanikawa, Carl Sagan, Maggie Smith, Amy Gerstler, Suleika Jaouad, Pat Schneider, & Briana Ní Loinsigh helped me get thru the week. I hope they help you too, in this week’s QOTW post. https://amandaearl.substack.com/p/25-01-12-25-01-18-qotw
The White Butterfly At Little Victories On Elgin
government worker
on lunch break
wants me pre-lubed
with no “panties,”
his words,
in the dress
I wore
yesterday on
Snapchat
my tits
hanging out
I kneel and lick
his toes, looking up
I notice the condom
which will
deprive me of
the satisfaction
of swallowing
I like his soft
chest hair
he tells me the pic
of my furry cunt
gave him a hard on
I have never
spent that long
licking balls
he holds off though
despite complimenting
my tongue skills
as I press my face
against him and he holds
my head down
a new condom
for doggy, my ass
hanging over
the edge of the bed
and my fingers
lubing up my cunt
again
to avoid what happened
with A, the young man
from Saudi Arabia
in May
whose fucking
made me bleed
after government worker comes
he puts his clothes on
right away
I’m a free noon whore
I ask him
about the tattoo
in Arabic
on his inner arm
he tells me
it means hope
he admires the
visual poetry
hanging on the
hallway wall
after he goes
I put on an upcycled
flower dress
from Montreal
and wander up Sparks
to Elgin to Little Victories
where I order
an Iced Americano
and sit outside
in the shade
a white butterfly
or perhaps it is
a daydream plays
in the tall
ornamental grass
or I suppose
you can say
it flies
in between
the long
green blades
distracting me
from reading
a poem about a
see-through
leaf
I’ve taken
up meditation
to help me
manage pain
a busker on Sparks
covers Nick Cave’s
In My Arms
I’m celebrating,
you see
with a blow job to
a stranger and coffee
alone on a sidewalk
patio
I want the white butterfly
to land on me
a moth to a flame
it returns as if
I’ve conjured it
out of my imagination
a young woman
in white
faces me at
an adjacent table,
the wind blows
her long, brown
hair
off her shoulders
Upper Lorne, Victoria Day Weekend
past the no exit sign
I like to find secret
round the corner
walks but I share
off Primrose
them with those
past the magnolia tree
I love
and the lilacs
today Charles
the statue of Mary
and I did my daily
Magdalene on the church
walk even though the
house now for sale
humidity made us both
don’t go down the metal
sticky and sweaty
stairs freezing in winter
maybe it was a little shorter
and hot to hang on to
than the thirty minutes
in summer
recommended
whose bright idea
I to walk so it’s no
was a staircase
hard task in the
made of metal
moderate temps
sit on the bench
we’ll see how I do
made from a coupla
in the above 30s
old trees stumps
or 20 belows
for wheels a car
what secrets
shaped bench
can be found
to rest on
in the blinding snow
take a gander
except the dreams
at the innovative
the mind conjures
three story tall
with a blank
house on the corner
canvass or a wind
wander past each
that pierces
wooden century
through layers
home back on
of winter clothing
to Somerset
it’s restful
and go to Kowloon
to think of winter
for the burdock root
when it’s too hot
and duck egg
on the long weekend
five varieties of pears
in May the Victorians
lemon leaf in plastic
celebrating like it’s
wrap and styrofoam
1899 with the 24s
get back home before
and bbq
the thunder
O, lilacs
Thursday’s heat
has unleashed
the fragrance
of just
bloomed lilacs
the colour
of the pale
pink ring
encircling
my nipple
that I trace
for you
with a
wet finger
as you watch
it rise I thumb
over it, down
and up then
cup the breast
and squeeze
to show you
the upturned plump
little nub sweet
little berry-like nub
which I take
between thumb &
index finger
I raise my breast
higher and lean down
so I can reach it
with my tongue
on the first warm day
I wear my brown corduroy
mini skirt and knee-high
sunflower socks
swaying my hips
and feeling sexy
listening to women
singing through
my headphones
I enjoy the sly
glances of men
as they check
out my naked legs
I smile and think about
how we’re all
horny in the spring
I take photographs of chairs,
bird houses and the first
magnolia tree in bloom
the air is full of the scent
of trees about to burst
I like to look up
when I’m on my knees
with a guy’s cock
in my mouth
the way it gets harder
when he sees
my dark brown eyes
grow wide with desire
nothing makes me feel
more aroused than
giving pleasure
I walk toward the big
blue sky behind a
woman in a short dress
blowing in the breeze
I love her strappy
orange high heels
her calves are so shapely
I want to follow them
up with my tongue
It’s been months since I’ve
pleasured a stranger
I’m jonesing for a little
patio time, followed by
intimate explorations and
silly conversations in bed
but it’s still a little soon
so I share naked
photos of myself on FetLife
a poor substitute for sweat
and licks and cum
a red cardinal perches
on a bare tree in front
of the funeral home
on Cooper a rare
sighting downtown
they say this is the presence
of a loved one who has died
ever been in the circus? I eat a strawberry with cold sticky hands on a bench in Dundonald Park in the sun grateful for the bathrooms at Staples grateful for the egg salad sandwiches at Massine’s and the strawberries too, even though one of them was moldy I waited until I got to the bench before I opened the food didn’t even struggle with the plastic container like I usually do I think I had my first blood sugar low in the grocery store all panicky and giddy and maybe lightheaded it was seriously weird and I knew I had to eat something on Fetlife I suggested folks join me at the park for a meander downtown but thirsty dudes were the only ones to respond and they stopped messaging me when they learned all I wanted was conversation not a fingering in the park or some idiotic horn-toad idea in the elevator I chatted with a man who pushed 22 meaning he lived on the top floor, 2 floors up from me he laughed at something I said when I got into my apartment I discovered the glob of egg salad on the front of my coat I poured milk into my little flowered mug grabbed a slice of roast beef sat on the couch, then spilled milk onto the carpet and a bag full of books and chapbooks after only a few sips I guess I was feeling it still the giddy weird lightheadedness I thought I was going to faint in the store but I still chatted up the lanky fella with the sour cream and yogurt containers stacked somehow between chin and hands by means of long arms I asked him if he’d ever been in the circus and he said he had!
ever been in the circus?
I eat a strawberry
with cold sticky hands
on a bench in Dundonald Park
in the sun
grateful for the
bathrooms at Staples
grateful for the egg
salad sandwiches at Massine’s
and the strawberries too,
even though one of them was moldy
I waited until I got to the bench
before I opened the food
didn’t even struggle
with the plastic container
like I usually do
I think I had my first
blood sugar low
in the grocery store
all panicky and giddy
and maybe lightheaded
it was seriously weird
and I knew I had to eat something
on Fetlife I suggested
folks join me at the park
for a meander downtown
but thirsty dudes
were the only ones
to respond
and they stopped
messaging me
when they learned
all I wanted
was conversation
not a fingering
in the park
or some idiotic
horn-toad idea
in the elevator
I chatted with a man
who pushed 22
meaning he lived
on the top floor,
2 floors up from me
he laughed
at something I said
when I got into
my apartment I discovered
the glob of egg
salad on the front
of my coat
I poured milk
into my little
flowered mug
grabbed a slice
of roast beef
sat on the couch,
then spilled milk
onto the carpet
and a bag full
of books and chapbooks
after only a few sips
I guess
I was feeling it
still
the giddy weird
lightheadedness
I thought I was
going to faint
in the store but
I still chatted up
the lanky fella
with the sour cream
and yogurt containers
stacked somehow
between chin
and hands
by means
of long arms
I asked him
if he’d ever been
in the circus
and he said
he had!
April 27: snow
up the hill between Preston and Booth, looking in the Corner Peach windows
I used to like to sit at the bar at lunch time on a weekday
drink a glass of good red while dipping some fresh bread into the soup of the day
and listening to the conversations of folks I imagined to be secret lovers
past the former apartments of friends and former friends
and the pho place where poets used to gather after readings
late at night or early in the morning
I love how green and strong the tulip leaves are looking now
they can withstand the weather, but can I?
first it rained then it snowed I carried no umbrella I put up my hoodie
and made myself small to fit between raindrops I like to disappear
when I’m out pretend I’m a ghost capable of rising like smoke
or blowing away like ashes, sparks, embers
she’s a choreographer
of the refrigerator
one crisper contains
Polaroid film
low carb and full
of protein
red onions are
peel to pulp
with berries safe
in their plastic boxes
while the celery lies
limply beside cartons
of eggs with the marge
wedged in the back
the carrots are stowed
in the cupboard in a box
of toilet cleaner pads and
clean sponges
she doesn’t know
how she’ll reach the milk
on Monday morning bleary
eyed and low blood sugared
to add to the coffee she’s
not supposed to drink
because the tower of
tomato cans: pureed,
diced, leftover crushed
may reach their tipping
point unless she is
a Jenga expert at
six in the morning
Little Red Ghost
she’s a red ambler a red dreamer a red meanderer in the daylight
striding quick quick slow slow slow quick as it suits her mood
past the red and white buses and the cars with workers en route
home early for a booze soaked Friday night and a narcotic stream
of bland comic book heroes they idolize
Fox Confessor Brings the Flood in her ears
the girl in a red hoodie walks through a fierce
north wind before Central Hope
craving chai, craving sugar,
counting the imaginary carbs of imaginary meals
skateboarders make daring jumps at McNabb
blond ponytails rising as they
wheel up and down concrete curves
his place is nearby he once asked her
to put her used panties in his mailbox
she’s always hated that word
she stuffed a thin orange cotton thong
in her mouth and sent him the photo
then snapped it to the fellas it arouses
her when cocks turn hard from her
who’s invisible on the streets
in her red outfit
as she looks in their eyes
toasting walnuts to get rid of the tingle
in my mouth when I eat them I can’t eat
many other types of nuts that are healthy
for diabetics or at least eat them unaccompanied
but walnuts are good fat, offer fibre and protein
the grab and go options like a handful of popcorn
or almonds or raw carrots and celery on their own
are dangerous for me you can microwave walnuts
for two minutes they won’t have the same golden
colour as they do when you put them in the oven
or on the stove I’m a grab and go person
distracted and busy with all my projects or asleep
and in need of fast digestible food when I wake up
yesterday I began my exercises by doing a robot
walk because I feel like everything has to be regimented
now you know how I love structure imposed externally
I’d rather let my body and mood determine what I do
how many things do I have to give up in my life
just to keep going I’m waiting to be told I shouldn’t
sleep after meals I’m thinking about how sleep
is my favourite thing and sometimes I wonder
what the point of getting up at all is