Moctezuma Johnson

Foreign Grown City Boyl
by Moctezuma Johnson


didn't mean to swell your clit
I'm sorry, I got distracted by Aunt Charlie's image
a Free Market of Enterprising Women
I am too much murmur, too much whisper
compensate by giving out
chunks of cock
like taquitos
chunks of splooge
like cantaloupe balls
to Korean girls who can spell but not pronounce my name

I'm the black death on the sidewalk
outside the old brothels with red velvet couches
which have only a few girls
not like the rows and rows of bargirls on walking street
which has a vibrating dildo of a clientele
all of whom
contain the word "cunt"
but I am Todd + Lucy = 69 Foreva
and When God Shoots Out Jizz
Pretend You're A Snake Charmer
And Wiggle Your Way
To Heaven One Load
At A Time

the old Green Jade Buddha
across from the diamond shops
really soothes my savage beast
really pulls the pulp from my orange
really twists my balls into animal balloons
of incurable apathy
because unlocked they leave the window
especially Sundays
and Friday night
is my Sunday morning
this is when Lakshmi moves upon me

licks my hairy anus
bounces her bulbous mountain titties
against my tongue
and prays i never pray
but i have already spit this:
Make Me the Hardest to Get Out
Jizz Stain in the World

in the Kali of counter-culteralism
I am King Shava working in a cubicle with a headset on
and not enough foreskin
I am David with an extra gonad
I am Ghandi with anorexia
I am bin Laden the investment banker working on the 110th floor of the World Trade
I am Jesus saying, "Fuck this shit. I won't hang on any motherfucker's cross again."

and the world simmers and sautes for all eternity
slowly nothing because of me
like browning garlic
i’m getting rid of your chlamydia
which wafts through the car
as I pound that smelly pussy
senseless


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Now that's a fucking poem! A re-work of “Home Grown Country Girl” part of Blank Cake by Misti Rainwater-Lites, published by Coatlism Press.