Nicole Mauro


Fucker Poem #1

How to
resist
the centrifuge, believe
in the upright
like a druid. It’s unreasonable
to be composed, to want
to be
pulled
by the same re-
unifying
fluids. Never mind what the maw
utters. I know
the mouth, Darling,
how insistent. That
“mouth”
is the right
shape for it, but it’s the wrong thing
to call it—that
when a kisser
puckersup
the fucker
behind it
is really trying to X
me out
with existence. It could feel happy, or like an
attacking, and that
fucker
is serious. Like a starling
molting
in the cat-
mouth, and like the cat-
mouth
holding it—ideally both, but
Jesus.


Nicole Mauro writes: "I shall spare you the whole bio, other than to say the gist of it is I've had stuff published (individual pieces, chaps, books) in various places over a period of years, and I really like poetry, and the people who publish it. And I'm married with two kids. And I like orifices and otoliths."
 
 
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