Scoundrel Time

Thirty years pass and

Again I dream
I’m stuck
in a room
with my rape—my rapist
is long gone and
it’s just me
and the rape now.

I could say that
the rape was a beast
with red eyes
breathing smoke
and fire at me
But, no, it’s just
a tired looking thing
(a big one)
piled up in a chair
looking at me and

Finally saying, My dear,
let’s just sit us down and
have some tea and a good talk
why don’t we?

And I say, Sure, why don’t we
just like old times
and this makes
my rape laugh
a deep belly laugh,
Honey, you always were
a smart aleck

I say, Please pass the sugar,
(why can’t you go away)?
The rape replies,
(now dear, you don’t
really mean that)
Here you go, two lumps?

I say, I’ll give you lumps,
and then the damn thing
starts crying like a baby
and I’m thinking
shit, now it wants me
to pat it on the head and
tell it everything’s alright





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