Poetry Friday Word for Tomorrow, plus a Maggie-list
Have you ever looked at your tongue? I mean, REALLY looked at it?
My tongue, right now, fer instance, as I look at it in the little mirror by my computer (so I can see the boss sneaking up on me from behind)…it’s wide, a little bumpy on the edges, wow, Very Wide, not too long but long enough (back me up here, Sergei), sort of white-ish (what did I eat for breakfast?).
I have the genetic capability of rolling it into a taquito shape. (Or a flauta.)
I can trill it to speak Spanish.
I can use it to whistle or make that clicking-language sound.
I can also tie knots in cherry stems with it. Winkwinknudgenudge.
The Poetry Friday WORD for Tomorrow is LICK. I’m thinking of it in the tongue sense, but if you want to say “My dad can lick your dad” and have it not be some form of sex play, then have at it. Feel free to use the word LICK in your blog post tomorrow, in whatever juicy fruity form tingles yer mouth…story, poem, photo, musical arrangement, podcast, recipe for the world’s largest lollipop, instructions for making a dress out of chocolate and licorice whips….
Maggie has a list! And she talks of penises. Penes. New word for my vocabulary. I won’t talk about the penis here today (okay, once). But I will put up a list. Hasta manana!
Things I Do Or Have Done
1) When I was 6, and playing outside, a housefly flew up my nose. I did what every 6-year old girl sucking a DumDum pop would do…tried to extricate the offending buzzer with the sucker stick. I would not recommend that as a foolproof method of extraction. I'm pretty sure I poked my frontal lobe several times. Which explains so much.
2) My girlfriends at work and I replicate that “Diet Coke Break” commercial for reals in the summertime. When the lawn crew comes to manicure the expanse of grass outside the office. We gather like sweaty trollops at the windows and salivate into buckets. We won’t stop, either, you can’t make us.
3) I will let random schoolchildren spit their gum into my hand for me to throw away. As long as there’s a sink within 100 yards of where I am.
4) A foolproof way for me to fall asleep is to have a very involved sexual fantasy. Not just “penis-in-vagina” stuff, but with a plot and good lighting and sentimental value. So vivid it’s like a movie. Next thing I know I’m waking up the next morning feeling refreshed. This is NOT helpful when I’m at work and I have a very involved sexual fantasy to squire away the boredom. When I wake up to a pool of drool on my desk, I hightail it to the coffee station and splash half a pot of decaf in my face. Not quite the happy ending I was hoping for.
5) When I was about 17, I snuck a bottle of my dad’s homemade wine into my room, hiding it in one of my killer knee-high brown leather boots (which I loved). That night I drank most of the bottle. Once the room started spinning I slept, but woke up in the middle of the night to hurl my stomach contents somewhere next to my bed. Next morning I found the offensive upchuck…in my other boot. I had to throw both boots away, in a fit of shame. Because I couldn’t just tell my mom I “lost” one big high-heeled boot. 'Cause I sure wasn't gonna try to clean out that thing.
6) It doesn’t matter how many Kegels I do…I will sometimes, when I forget to listen to my body, sneeze with such force that I squirt pee. Just a little. Clench, Girl! CLENCH!
7) My brother is 20 months younger than I am. When we were little we would fight. Dirty fighting. Biting. Scratching. Kicking. We’d leave marks. We got more than our fair share of spankings from the parents. I sometimes wonder how my parents lived through those years (I would have committed me). And then I remember…OH! So THAT’S why my dad made wine!