Sor Juana Eats Apples in Front of Men, And Laughs

Have you ever seen a bee
burst with orchard lust?
It’s funny how they wobble,
ass backwards away
from their sex food.

Reminds me of 40 somethings
fucking 20 somethings,
each encounter
like the swell before
waves break.

Her eyelids make me homesick
every time she laughs
at her own inside joke—

Gorgias’ defense of Helen.
Fucking Sophists!
Erotic and painful
like a lonely library
where rough vellum
waits to be touched again.

Lust. Gimme a break!
She insists we go
see The Graduate.
Her terse,
rhetorically feminine
lips spread

every time Anne Bancroft
lashes out in horny anguish.
She makes another joke,
this one smolders
a crisp hole in the demiurge.

In the dark she uses
too much tongue; it’s mean
and tightly sprung like
a bishop reading criticism.

I try to keep up with her
but there’s no room
for 4,000 books
in my mouth.

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