Thunder Sandwich
#17

Poetry
3 poems by Ryan Doke

dweeb by jeff filipski
dweeb by jeff filipski

i go out looking for poems

pull them out of the gutter,
sit on a bench and watch them go by,
listen for them in line at the liquor store,
rarely notice them at work,
find 'em a lot when i'm taking a shit,
even found one once inside a woman's underpants,
see them tumbling through the park,
or laying on their back at the beach,
spoon them out of the river,
drink them in the bars,
hear them through the phone lines,
catch them looking at me while i drive,
and write them when they come.



lunch

two branches,
like praying mantis',
fuck outside
my window.
behind them,
a gray winter
background,
that i see from
bed, hungover,
while dreaming of
a woman's ass
that is round
and full.
and i imagine
her mind,
slow and
stupid.
a beautiful mind.
one that will
keep her
from
making
me into
lunch.



ohh the sluts

pool balls on a
green table,
a stick in my hand,
and the night
had a difference
with itself.
usually, the only
women in the

shenago lounge

are forty-five year
old alcoholics,
but this night
it was filled
with

young
pussy.

this one, wearing
a gray dress,
tight around the top,
with short blonde
hair, blonde
eyebrows, and having
just the right amounts in
just the right places,
was working the room.
you could tell
she was

a
real
slut.

the girl i was playing
pool with even said so,
"oh, she's a real slut," she said.

ohh the sluts,

they hold the golden key
to the golden room,
somewhere.
but this was a different
room and she worked
it real good.
after no one was left to
work on but me,
she found me, and
i pulled her
in close,

"i'm going to fuck you good," i said.
"oh yeah," she said.
"yeah, we'll have
pounds of fun."

then, it was my turn
at the pool table.
when i came back,
she was sitting with
another man.
sitting with her legs open,
and her dress pushed
up around her waist,
so the guy could see

her panties,

a real
slut style,

and i heard her say to him,

"your my uncle,
i love you,
there is no one else."

her goddamn uncle,
been fucking
her since she
was a little girl.
the bastard
had set gasoline
and flame to her
only existence.
now, i lay here
in this bed,
in an attic,
with a gray feeling
coming through the
window,
and only have the
memory, of that
body, next to mine.

ohh the sluts,

we were
going to
have

pounds
of
fun.

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ISSN: 1534-4037