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I know I have a problem because my Coke doesn't taste like Jack
by Jolie JordanHe writes me poems on post-its
I write him off like I had planned it.
We're inseparable now
He tries to put rings on my fingers
and sperm in my guts.
I sleep in as late as possible
and wake up to his voices in my ear
and his arms around my waist
He tells me stories about futures and happiness as
I bite into a coral-coloured grapefruit
and I imagine him looking at me just as my face sours up.
01/15/2008 Posted on 01/15/2008
Copyright © 2026 Jolie Jordan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 01/15/08 at 02:12 PM Outstanding!!! |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 01/17/08 at 12:01 AM ...and wake up to his voices in my ear...
I only read what I want to :) |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 01/17/08 at 05:08 AM I took a whole (silent) tour through a bunch of your poetry today. a real revelation. its nice to see someone here who actually has a "voice". not that there aren't others, but I thought this, and a lot of your other poems, were a real breath of fresh air. |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 02/15/08 at 03:04 AM this is excellent - like your style a lot |
| Posted by Ava Blu on 02/19/08 at 09:34 PM "He tries to put rings on my fingers
and sperm in my guts." - why do they always do that? |
| Posted by Bob Arcania on 03/04/08 at 01:13 AM That last line is just right. I'm a sucker for good last lines and these sorts of vices. |
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