Thursday, June 28, 2012

Untitled Sonnet #17

Of lowest creatures we pretend disgust,
So that our hidden wound may never spread,
Revealing bloated meat and bony thrust,
Or slip from eager mouth the mask of dread.
But you with lips shut tight in nettled smile,
Who feed us lies with all too vestal slop,
And make a sty where angels would beguile,
And drive the pig to slaughter with your crop:
You who would slice the shadow’s boneless ham,
Displayed and glazed with honey o’er the fat,
And 'round that cut would wrap your prim madame,
And fling the scraps in allies for the rats:
  Pity yourself, and watch this glutton be,
  To eat raw flesh, beside herself with glee.



By Valerie Bane

10 comments:

  1. Is this poem about sex or vegetarians? I like how it rhymes, either way.

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  2. "Slice the shadow's boneless ham?" Really?

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    Replies
    1. I liked her old blog better because it had more pictures of boobies.

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  3. "drive the pig to slaughter with your crop." You and Sudja (with her whip sers in darkness) have a real S&M fetish, don't you?

    And I think you mean "alleys" as in "narrow back street" not "allies" as in "a person who associates or cooperates with another; supporter."

    Unless you really meant to fling scraps into allies for the rats, which makes about as much sense as the boneless ham.

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  4. Hey Emma, I've got an idea. Why don't you share something vulnerable and heartfelt on your blog so we can make snide and dismissive comments about it? Won't that be fun?

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    Replies
    1. Ontology is about as vulnerable and heartfelt as Emma gets on her blog. If you want attack something personal, criticize her pumpkin bread.

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    2. Leave my baked goods out of this.

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  5. Emma: Do you think your comments in general would have less veiled hostility if you spent more time masturbating?

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    Replies
    1. And by masturbating do you mean "writing poetry?"

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