Is there any one sense in this thing
or is someone just poppin corn?
It is not so totally an ugly. Though the heat
is never nice, and the cloud, the could,
now tuned with purple gloves like a pass
over town. I come here occasionally
for the wow. I ask for sex because I like
the way it feels to do away with all the sexiness.
Too smart of me to put it any other way.
There is the necessity and then there is
the necessity. Off I go to the daughters
and the daughters' blank. I came for the long
wow in this thing. You there wolf as wolf hair.
You'll take it, all that is me. The junk
and the junkish.
Poems by Lillian-Yvonne Bertram can be found in Alligator Juniper, Bat City Review, Cream City Review, Gulf Coast, Harvard Review, Indiana Review, jubilat, la fovea, Narrative Magazine, Subtropics, Sou'wester, and other journals. For the moment she live in the Berkshires with her partner and their cat, Hipolito Yrigoyen. A native of Buffalo and a once-upon-a-time Pittsburgher, she roots for the Steelers and the Bills, and is a guest poetry editor over at Arsenic Lobster.