Thursday, September 30, 2021

The Last Time I Got [ ] by Jameson Fitzpatrick

The Last Time I Got [ ]

I only let him
because he was sort of famous
and I wanted to say I had.
And the time before that,
because he was sort of straight
and I wanted to have my say—
and before that,
because he was there,
and he was going to.
Once Jacques got in,
where I wanted him,
but not all the way
and I wouldn’t let him
move it, I just
finished myself off and burst
into tears. It was fine,
I was fine, it was just a lot,
what Lot wouldn’t let
his neighbors do
to the angels. And he didn’t
even know they were angels.
Lot has nothing to do
with it, why I won’t.
Or can’t, if will isn’t the thing.
But isn’t the mind the body.
Isn’t mine, and what has
been done to it, and how:
plucked like a flower
plucked like a string.

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