Day 7, Poem 7: Untitled in-class Exercise OR
Ugh, I Cannot Believe Roger is Making Us Post These For Our Day 7's
(Um, fuck this, I'm only posting a part or it - and wtf is everyone else's??? Come on alkies!)

Panama, you dirty chicken hawk sonofabitch motherfucker! You taught me to search for that which I never wanted. Made me think I needed it to survive. You pierced my head, red with your child-size dick in my mouth and the smell of the butcher's - raw meat - and sunlight in my nose. And mildew - the stank smell of summer sex I didn't yet recognize as anything but-different.

Sawdust beneath my feet, soaking up rotten milk dropped by delivery men. I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of this place had I recognized it then - or been able to float outside my body and watch myself like I do now, but I don't. I'm still doe-eyed and obedient - I'm sure that's the main ingredient you look for in girls. And I do mean girls... Just an object. Easily replaced. Insignificant glory hole. Human urinal.

I think about you almost every day and sometimes every night whether I get to sleep or not. But you probably forgot- the minute you pulled out and looked both ways before making your getaway. Funny. My backbone broken-spirit ripped from chest- left to die in the festering sickness and blame that incubates in open wounds of misunderstanding. Spreading, infected.