“queer cunt”

I lick up sticky slur irradiations \ like creemees
coated in electromagnetic / spectrum sprinkles

it’s not a degradation kink \ the soft curves of my smile
just wanna make love / to the sharp articulation of your hate

so I crunch cusses and mash misogyny \ with frostbitten brain-thawed jaws
buzzing in transgressive exuberance / I swallow down

snubs, slights, and scorn \ a smooth cream stream
caught by larynx crucible / where I subject bigotry to

nuclear neon pleasure \ confectionary polemical reaction
pressure froths pride up / past laryngeal protuberance

my treacly reclamation rolls \ off alliterative lips
bitter curses melt molten / hostility slushing into spun sugar

pejorative queer \ derogatory cunt
replaced by fabulous piloerect / radioactive rainbow

multicolor maraschino stem \ mons pubis
that I part with glazed fingers / to dribble jibes down

the cone of my clit \ cultivating hairy pubic pulsing
pussy ROYGBV slit / with cherry spit shine from my uterus

I eat your insults \ caramelize them in saliva sweet subversion
a cotton candy compliment / I wrap my eager teeth around your

\ “queer cunt” /

(k)inkblot

plotting territory of teeth and tongue
you lathe my lumbar indentation dimples
in a base coat of bruises
stamping sticky shadow continent
mass of primal suction hickeys
you soothe symmetrical thundercloud contusions
with kicking-dick storm pulse
climaxes of wet-hot pearlescent paint
my swathes of stinging skin are staked
twin viscous daubs of expulsive liquid
disintegrate and seep into blotted tissue

I am your multimedia sketch
a bilateral prismatic print of Rorschach semen spent
your nacreous sheen gleam shellack
tracks the outline of my lower back’s
inflamed mauve and stippled plumb stains
blotched claims emblazoned and brazen
I proctor this pareidolia test equation
heady with my bratty syntax persuasion
unequivocally solving what leaps from the deep burst
of your possessive neural abstract ink spurt
love or domination
which of our synapse maps fires first?

Your Weiner Makes a Shitty Weapon

I read a book about cunts¹
that taught me
the word vagina’s etymology

it means:
sheath or scabbard in Latin
which made me pause

I wonder if that’s one reason
some guys act like their dicks
are made of Damascus

sauntering bowlegged
as though genitals swing
too heavy to wield

I wish historical dudes
had been less obnoxious
with their metaphorical packaging

my body apparently
a place to store what those men imagine
are katanas or cutlasses

but are actually paring knives
peeling away the skin of equity
and their own pathetic, insecure lives

the amused rage-confusion
I had upon this revelation
inspired me to write two lists:

List #1: Some things I’ve stuck up my cunt

assorted vegetables
dildos
vibrators
one wooden art mannikin
(the tiny kind with articulated joints and no face)
my fingers
other people’s fingers
hockey stick handles
uncircumcised cocks
circumcised shafts
a particularly vascular, phallic icicle

List #2: Some things I’ve never stuck up my cunt

A SWORD

‘cause I’m not a fan of sharp points
poking at my cervix
I do, however, enjoy the heft
of a metal pommel in my hand
Oh Venerable Blade Masters,
I’d love to test my honed steel edge
against your flagging erections

let’s enjoy a little spar

1. “Cunt: A Declaration of Independence” by Inga Muscio

b.p.sweet likes maple creemee treats & words that stick like rainbow sprinkles masticated into the crags of their teeth. they also enjoy shit-stirring and dust bunny hunting in a maid café outfit they don for unsuccessful crusades against the Neverending Mess that haunts their humble abode.