DAY 06 – CUDDLE/P@RTY/SIGNPOST

‘WELCOME TO 21 HOURS OF CUDDLING
FOR MY TWENTY-FIRST.’

‘STOP’ ‘CURRENTLY UNDER
CONSTRUCTION’

‘THE HOTEL V BENCOOLEN’

‘IT IS PERFECT
TO TOUCH YOUR FRIENDS
LIKE THIS.’
you shouldn’t touch people too much
lest you feel like your liver is rising,
lest your mother opens her mouth.

‘DON’T SIT ON THE HUMMUS.’
‘DO NOT TURN THIS INTO
DRUG PEDDLING PROCEEDINGS.’

‘DO NOT
CUT THE CHEESE
IN VERY ENCLOSED ROOMS.’

‘THOSE WITH CUSTODY OF ME
POSSESSED MISGIVINGS
WITH REFERENCE TO THIS
ODD FESTIVITY.’
my mother pronounces me
one of those slutty g*ys.

‘INSTRUCT THEIR FINGERS
TO BE FIRM.’
she tells me not to be promiscuous.
(even if I write poetry.)

‘LET LONGING BURN.’
bruises show up excellent
under fluorescents.

my mother tells me fewer things
now, but some rules still hold:

‘DON’T KISS OTHER QUEERS.’
‘FUCK LESS.
BE LESS.’

‘NO HOMO.’
‘NO.’

‘INVITE YOUR WORST ENEMIES
TO CUDDLE ORGIES.’


#‎SingPoWriMo2015Day06 #‎SingPoWriMoDay06 #marylyntan

#‎Prompt1: Write a lipogram – i.e. a poem that does not use a particular letter of the alphabet (e.g. “t”, “s” or the challenging “e”)

#‎Prompt2: Write a poem that challenges a rule, a law, a habit, a form, a subject, a theme, a mindset: or as many of these as possible.

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DAY 03 – NONGENDERED R’LYEHIAN EROTIQUE

it’s a flesh wound, they say,
and purse
their thick cleaved lips
at the prone twitch-yiffing
of my wetly gleaming form,
which is

nearly as masturbatory
as wordpress.

we are tiny manimals calcite
and mineralised in amber
monument to the day
we came so hard
we fossilised ourselves.

there is a symmetry to the golden ratio of the
nautilus,
the cleaved foot of the goat with
a thousand young,
the raw milky glass-white of
translucent anal beads.

you fuck my flesh wound
with your polydactyl thumb
and a horde of sugar gliders bursts out
swimming for their lives.

I wilt like a corsage,
or most hard-ons.

it is not just because they are my
cosmic progenitor parents
that they are called
The Elder Ones.

we are hatching wordlessly
under the earth
and still

dead cthulhu
lies wet dreaming.


#‎SingPoWriMo2015Day03 ‪#‎SingPoWriMoDay03 ‪#‎SG50ShadesOfGrey
‪#‎marylyntan
Write an erotic poem
Bonus 1: …with no people in it.
Bonus 2: Pun.

(18) on reading too much and having new ideas

Sacred Geometry | Grace Lung Art Palette

my mother too often accuses
the back of my neck, my limp
wrists, one quirked eyebrow
(usually the right), of cruelties I
committed

before I knew better. but children
are multi-molting cocoons;
one forgets learning is not linear.
one forgets the soul grows
not just in a single direction.
even the spiral of the nautilus
has chambers.