 Coleen Shin lives a life of self-indulgent leisure in Dallas, Texas. She idly, and with great pleasure, does laundry for her hard-working man, relaxes in the kitchen, hands softening to perfection in dish water, and if she feels like it, works a fifty-hour work week managing a retail optical outfit where she assures each and every presbyopic oldster, "Yes indeed! those hot pink Versace sunglasses make you look twenty years younger." Published here and there about the spider's Web, she awaits patiently the day she dies and is immortalized for her savage wit. E-mail Coleen Shin.
Caught in My Throat He calls it fucking,
says it with a guttural
He wants to hear it in his
ear, sometimes low
Oh Baby, Yes, Yes, Ohhh,
You get the drift. I can manage the "Oh Baby"
the "Yes, Yes, Ohhh"
I have trouble with the word fuck. Maybe it's the 'k' catching
in my throat 'k' 'k' 'k'
Or maybe I grew sweet, gentled
by a poet
I practice while he's showering. I lay whispering, "Oh baby, fuck me to the moon" stumbling over the "k" Copyright
© 2002 Coleen Shin. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
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