by Lauren Jackson

i was looking for a scratchy voice mufucka

to come take me down nice like the brothas

in the movie that go uhhh and gush and stay

long enough to see the sun crest across the

window to heat up that place stained by

sweat and nasty loving.


you got a throat like jesus and a backside

i could fall into. you got that one tooth that

been there since birth that could really tell

me some shit but i don't want to know, only

want to feel what your sweat plus my sweat

could make together.


no communion no babies no hugs no laughs

just real gross mufucka get sick wit it mufucka

shut up mufucka just hold me mufucka stick

it in mufucka shh shh me mufucka real soft

stroke my face mufucka aww dammit mufucka

i love you mufucka.

Lauren Michele Jackson was raised in Batavia, Illinois and currently lives in Chicago. She is a PhD candidate in English at the University of Chicago and contributing editor at The New Inquiry. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming from The Atlantic, Hayden's Ferry Review, The Journal, The Point, and Spoon River Poetry Review, among other places. She tweets for culture @proseb4bros.




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