back then on that Bronx block
few of us stood a chance
against reruns of Lynda Carter’s
Bracelets of Submission…..truth lasso
or pale décolletage
rendering erotic doses of televised justice
on a daily basis. but we all know
it wasn’t just her alone.
so many of the finest neighborhood girls
played defense with both their hearts
and breasts—and rightfully so—
because we’d wetted our tongues too often
just to get a chance to one day lick
the closest thing we could find
to a cinematic Caucasian nipple.
and into the Internet and collegiate
suburbs we fled where we were incentivized
to hit ENTER for a mere $19.99 a month
to witness tabooed foes
get digitally down and dirty.
today privacy is free but for a small fee:
many still wait in line with knife
and fork and plate atop tray
to be awarded daily morsels of so much
who now is willing to maim
to ensure permanency of these heralded
and measured helpings?
I preach bared teeth in a dog
isn’t just a sign of danger but an emblem
of manicured lust marching through our guts—
a contractual desire we pray
over the graves of our mothers
will one day be heralded as human.
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