quotes by Daphne Gottlieb
(showing 1-5 of 5)
"You told me you like my mouth.
You want to kiss me.
My mouth is a wound and you
want to kiss me.
But you're like
that: You want to go
leaping over cliffs--
you want to go
drinking poison
and then write pretty poems about it--
and all I want to do is
fuck you.
You want flowers and sonnets and us
to be together until the end of the world and I'd
just like a blow job, I'd just like
to be friends.
that's what I'd really like.
Something warm and snuggly like a friendship.
and to fuck you.
The flowers are going to die and the cliffs are
going to erode and we might as well go fuck
since we're going to anyway.
We'll fuck and fight and eat and drink and smoke and fuck and smoke and fuck and
get married
And in six months from now
we'll stop making the world stop
to fuck each other
and one year from now
I'll get fat and you'll go bald and
I'll take prozac and you'll take viagra
I'll get obsessed with my biological clock
and my career
and you'll get obsessed with your hairline
and your career
and two years from now
you'd rather watch reruns than fuck me
and I'd rather be drinking than fuck you
so we'll drink in separate bars and one night
someone who likes my mouth will buy me a drink
that drink will be attached to a hand
there will be a human holding that drink
the kind with ears
and I will tell whoever it is
all about you
and how we used to forget to eat when we were in bed for three days
and your ears will be burning across town
where you are telling whoever it is how I don't understand you
and two years from now, that girl with that drink
she will nod that yes that I am nodding at you tonight
that nod, that yes that means you're not coming home
because just for a second the world has gone away
because just for a second there's someone who understands you
and that night it will be her pretty mouth you want
and that night I will pass out at home, alone
with a bottle that reminds me of us
because it'll be empty
because it'll be gone
I will pass out waiting for you
to come
home
listening to country music--and I hate
country music--
but I'll be feeling tragic
it'll be the most romantic moment
I've ever had and
I'll be alone
and you'll be across town
with that girl who right now is in high school
and right now I just met you
and right now I think you should take me home and fuck me
because it only gets uglier from here
we only get uglier from here
so take me to the edge of that cliff you love
and pour me a shot of your silky poison
you can take this mouth
this wound you want
but you can't kiss
and make it
better."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
You want to kiss me.
My mouth is a wound and you
want to kiss me.
But you're like
that: You want to go
leaping over cliffs--
you want to go
drinking poison
and then write pretty poems about it--
and all I want to do is
fuck you.
You want flowers and sonnets and us
to be together until the end of the world and I'd
just like a blow job, I'd just like
to be friends.
that's what I'd really like.
Something warm and snuggly like a friendship.
and to fuck you.
The flowers are going to die and the cliffs are
going to erode and we might as well go fuck
since we're going to anyway.
We'll fuck and fight and eat and drink and smoke and fuck and smoke and fuck and
get married
And in six months from now
we'll stop making the world stop
to fuck each other
and one year from now
I'll get fat and you'll go bald and
I'll take prozac and you'll take viagra
I'll get obsessed with my biological clock
and my career
and you'll get obsessed with your hairline
and your career
and two years from now
you'd rather watch reruns than fuck me
and I'd rather be drinking than fuck you
so we'll drink in separate bars and one night
someone who likes my mouth will buy me a drink
that drink will be attached to a hand
there will be a human holding that drink
the kind with ears
and I will tell whoever it is
all about you
and how we used to forget to eat when we were in bed for three days
and your ears will be burning across town
where you are telling whoever it is how I don't understand you
and two years from now, that girl with that drink
she will nod that yes that I am nodding at you tonight
that nod, that yes that means you're not coming home
because just for a second the world has gone away
because just for a second there's someone who understands you
and that night it will be her pretty mouth you want
and that night I will pass out at home, alone
with a bottle that reminds me of us
because it'll be empty
because it'll be gone
I will pass out waiting for you
to come
home
listening to country music--and I hate
country music--
but I'll be feeling tragic
it'll be the most romantic moment
I've ever had and
I'll be alone
and you'll be across town
with that girl who right now is in high school
and right now I just met you
and right now I think you should take me home and fuck me
because it only gets uglier from here
we only get uglier from here
so take me to the edge of that cliff you love
and pour me a shot of your silky poison
you can take this mouth
this wound you want
but you can't kiss
and make it
better."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
"This week
in live current
events: your eyes.
All power can be
dangerous:
Direct
or alternating,
you, socket to me.
Plugged in and the grid
is humming,
this electricity,
molecule-deep desire:
particular friction, a charge
strong enough to stop
a heart
or start it
again; volt, re-volt--
I shudder, I stutter, I start
to life. I've got my ion
you, copper-top,
so watch how you
conduct yourself.
Here's today's
newsflash: a battery of rolling
blackouts in California, sudden,
like lightning kisses:
sudden, whitehot
darkness and you're
here, fumbling for
that small switch
with an urgent surge
strong enough to kill
lesser machines.
Static makes hair raise,
makes things cling,
makes things rise like
a gathering storm
charging outside
our darkened house
and here I am:
tempest, pouring out
mouthfulls
of tsunami on the ground,
I've got that rain-soaked kite,
that drenched key.
You know what it's for,
circuit-breaker, you know
how to kiss until it's hertz."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
in live current
events: your eyes.
All power can be
dangerous:
Direct
or alternating,
you, socket to me.
Plugged in and the grid
is humming,
this electricity,
molecule-deep desire:
particular friction, a charge
strong enough to stop
a heart
or start it
again; volt, re-volt--
I shudder, I stutter, I start
to life. I've got my ion
you, copper-top,
so watch how you
conduct yourself.
Here's today's
newsflash: a battery of rolling
blackouts in California, sudden,
like lightning kisses:
sudden, whitehot
darkness and you're
here, fumbling for
that small switch
with an urgent surge
strong enough to kill
lesser machines.
Static makes hair raise,
makes things cling,
makes things rise like
a gathering storm
charging outside
our darkened house
and here I am:
tempest, pouring out
mouthfulls
of tsunami on the ground,
I've got that rain-soaked kite,
that drenched key.
You know what it's for,
circuit-breaker, you know
how to kiss until it's hertz."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
"All the black leather
she needs
is the E-Z boy recliner
where her love is parked
with one of his hands wrapped around a remote,
the other, a bottle of beer.
She's right. It's kinky.
The way he doesn't look away
from the TV,
as her head bobs
in his lap
like a fisherman's float
on a nature program,
hectic
with the pace
his breath sets.
His crotch swells
under her mouth's
prowess. He's such
a sweetheart
he waits
until the
commercials
to come."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
she needs
is the E-Z boy recliner
where her love is parked
with one of his hands wrapped around a remote,
the other, a bottle of beer.
She's right. It's kinky.
The way he doesn't look away
from the TV,
as her head bobs
in his lap
like a fisherman's float
on a nature program,
hectic
with the pace
his breath sets.
His crotch swells
under her mouth's
prowess. He's such
a sweetheart
he waits
until the
commercials
to come."
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
tags:
poetry,
relationships
3 people liked it
"come back so i can say yes this time do it again now that i know what to call what you did
this time i'll be ready i like it rough now and i'm done with romance i never met another man who loved me so much at first sight he had to hurt me to do it"
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
this time i'll be ready i like it rough now and i'm done with romance i never met another man who loved me so much at first sight he had to hurt me to do it"
— Daphne Gottlieb (Why Things Burn: Poems)
