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Confessions of a Chi Leech
If I don't orgasm once a week
I turn into a neurotic wolf.
At two weeks, the wolf is starving,
but her teeth ache like she just flossed
for the first time in years.
After a month she has been sedated
tranquilized with one of those dart guns.
Masturbation is like trying to negotiate
a contract with the devil for 6 hours
while juggling chainsaws.
Maybe if it was written in blood
under a full moon with a quill
made from an eagle's feather
it would have enough juice.
Men, the dick, lightning at midnight
in the castle of the mad scientist.
Pull the switch. She's alive!
And of course when they tell me
I'm pretty, I turn from wolf to terrier.
But then they stop calling, and I become
a slug with salt on her back
a wedding cake with a bite taken out
before the guests even arrive.
Then, on the following Tuesday,
as I eat the last of the godiva
chocolates they gave me,
I forget they ever existed.
They're just paint by numbers anyway
no surprises to challenge us creative types.
So my girlfriend takes off her glasses,
lets down her hair, casts aside
the guise of the mild mannered
research scientist, and she arms
herself with 9000-rpm implements
of construction. She puts on her cape,
coaxes me out with strawberries
and champagne, then she strikes deep
makes me scream for 15 minutes
with her psionic blast.
This wolf doesn't have no king.
This wolf needs no king!
ISBN 1-59661-035-2
34 pages/$9
Vanessa Kittle’s poems contemplate the connections and disconnections between worlds: the mortal and eternal, the private and social, the present moment and remembered past. With candor and imagination and an appealing tone of bemused yearning, these poems enact how we can be two people—or be in two places—at once, how we are both a part of and apart from. In doing so, they help us “bring the world / back into focus.”
—Chris Forhan
Vanessa Kittle lives on Long Island with her partner, Erin, and her kitten, Sombrero. She is a former lawyer and chef. She studied fiction with Judy Troy, but now writes poetry because she has to. She cooks for fun.