A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

OPP (other people's poetry)

Now we think
as we fuck
this nut
might kill us.
There might be
a pin-sized hole
in the condom.
A lethal leak.
We stop kissing
tall dark strangers,
sucking mustaches,
putting lips
tongues
everywhere.
We return to pictures.
Telephones.
Toys. Recent lovers.
Private lives.
Now we think
as we fuck
this nut might kill.
this kiss could turn
to stone.
—Essex Hemphill, now we think.
Ceremonies. Plume, 1992

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