* * *
Between brasa whispers and nuzzlings
your rough hands hold my hips close and coax me
against the wall, against you. This youngling’s
cock tip — nudges — your up-turned cheeks. Easy.
In thrall. You were once Elaine Brown’s lover,
working on the Black Panther’s Free Breakfast
for the Children program. I call you “sir;”
you say I’m your “boy bitch.” Often aghast
I squirm under such words. Language ruins
it all. The night is full of blood and chrome
and ghosts. Sweaty and writhing, my pale horn
touches your cervix. I have a virgin’s
greed for you. You, who are my honeycomb
fire, at war before I was even born.
Brasa is Spanish for “live coal.”
Elaine Brown is a prison activist and former head of the Oakland chapter of the Black Panther Party; ran for the Green Party presidential nomination in 2008.
There is no love in this life for older
women. The most you can be is Gertrude,
Hamlet’s mother. But what sort of pleasure
can you find with a melancholy prude
for a son who wants you all to himself?
While Hamlet and Claudius fought Gertrude’s
vibrator buzzed, making her the first MILF,
the first Cougar, first to catch a young dude’s
eye. And why not? Life is short and we all
drink the poison in Act 5. A good fuck
is the least we can do. The last cure-all
until the undiscovered country. Suck
you wet, Gertrude, you who’ve been another
mother to me; my friend, muse and lover.
Lordy, I’m getting up in years but mama
ain’t too old to shift her gears” — Ida Cox.