deepundergroundpoetry.com
inventor of wife-beating
you never drink with me. you sit there & watch, as I suck back shot
after shot of this rotgut whiskey, at this old splintered table in this
dim kitchen with no windows you can’t even breathe in here!
but when I jerk my head up, you look down at your hands in your lap.
who are you? are you Stella, who always depended on the kindness
of strangers? there ain’t no strangers to help you baby. & if I ain’t
Brando, I’m his fuckin dead brother…
I’d throw my whiskey in your face, but it’s too good to waste on a
whore like you.
& my hands, what good are my hands? I need to get the misery out.
thru my hands. I need to put it on you. so I get up, knock down my chair,
stumble over to you. & I grab your hair again, & I slap your face again.
and again. and again!
but you never cry. is it pride, or are you dry inside? how much do I have to
beat you to break your face into little girl tears…
I want to see you cry.
just once, I want to see you cry…
(It was Blanche DuBois, not her sister Stella, who said, 'I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.' The character in the poem isn't particularly literate. His memory is vague.)
after shot of this rotgut whiskey, at this old splintered table in this
dim kitchen with no windows you can’t even breathe in here!
but when I jerk my head up, you look down at your hands in your lap.
who are you? are you Stella, who always depended on the kindness
of strangers? there ain’t no strangers to help you baby. & if I ain’t
Brando, I’m his fuckin dead brother…
I’d throw my whiskey in your face, but it’s too good to waste on a
whore like you.
& my hands, what good are my hands? I need to get the misery out.
thru my hands. I need to put it on you. so I get up, knock down my chair,
stumble over to you. & I grab your hair again, & I slap your face again.
and again. and again!
but you never cry. is it pride, or are you dry inside? how much do I have to
beat you to break your face into little girl tears…
I want to see you cry.
just once, I want to see you cry…
(It was Blanche DuBois, not her sister Stella, who said, 'I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.' The character in the poem isn't particularly literate. His memory is vague.)
Published 16th Feb 2013
| Edited 18th Feb 2013
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likes 6
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comments 4
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16th Feb 2013 5:24am
Intriguing and sounds almost like something i have been through or a dream i have dreamed.... ;)
16th Feb 2013 5:50am
I thought the final lines reflected the idea of a man who wishes to just see the woman react to him with. He is obviously violent and cruel, but his actions are desperate in nature. Now that is simply what I saw. I don't know if this is actually conveyed in the work. I don't think it is, and I think that going into that sort of idea could really add another layer to the character.
23rd Feb 2013 3:28pm
I once found myself in an abusive relationship a million years ago. Reading that was like taking a stroll down memory lane. Very powerful.
You did and excellent job capturing the overall essence of each character.
Though it made me squirm a bit to read, that's a good thing. That means that it made me "feel", it touched me in some way. Well Done!
You did and excellent job capturing the overall essence of each character.
Though it made me squirm a bit to read, that's a good thing. That means that it made me "feel", it touched me in some way. Well Done!
3rd Mar 2013 8:12pm
A stroll down memory lane for me too, I would never break for him.
Great portrayal of what goes on in way to many homes.
Great portrayal of what goes on in way to many homes.
