Chapter 1: Confessions of Inanimate Objects
Confessions of Pistachio Pudding
The pudding said to the whipped cream
"I love the way you feel on top of me...
all light and sugary...but I have a confession
I was not always a bowl of Pistachio Pudding
I used to be Lancelot
And
I suspect you were once Guinevere
I suspect that maybe Dave Matthews
Was once Mozart
I suspect that writers reciprocally
create the same masterpieces over and over again
Just changing them
But leaving the same message
and thus "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," became "Satellite"
I suspect that possibly Arthur Laurents was William Shakespeare and that's why Westside Story and Romeo and Juliet are so similar
I suspect a lot of things that animate objects would never suspect
When your inanimate you see things others can't
and so my delectable whipped cream
I suspect I have known you before
Confessions of a Blowtorch
The Blowtorch said to the Steel
“I am going to enjoy this
More than you know
Believe you me
We reap what we sow
Like bright burning fire turns wood to gray ashes
Like a Singapore criminal that gets thirteen lashes
It is now my turn
to burn into you
For three past lives
I suffered through
You were rubber
while I was glue
You were the slaughterhouse
while I cried out “Moo!”
You were the white man
And my people the Sioux
But the past is the past
We start a new
And this is my turn “to do”
what I do
Like kismet karma on a merry-go-round
The truth is false
The lost is found
I burn you steel
I feel your pain
I’ve cried your cry
I feel no shame.”
* It should be ironically noted that the steel was in no way hurt or bothered by the flame of the blow torch
Confessions of a Swirly Straw
The Swirly Straw said to the Clear Cola
“I don’t mean to pry
but I’m tired of getting double teamed
Like some harlot in a trashy movie
If I wanted so many ménage a trios’
I would have wished to be a porn star
Or possibly a prostitute
And even if I were born Jenna Jameson, Francesca Le, or Kobe Tai
I would have chosen a different occupation
Yes, it’s true I was Cleopatra in a past life
And perhaps I was the infamous Jezebel also
And perhaps I enjoy the physical act of sex
A little too much
But there is something very unsettling
about my top being tongued and sucked on
while a river of sticky sweet liquid
Is shot up my bottom
twisting and turning
through my body like a shivering orgasm
And besides your effervescing bubbles
are tickling me in all the wrong spots
So the next time
this anonymous person puts his lips to me
make yourself scarce and get out of my way
or mark my words
you’ll pay
energy has a funny way
of coming back to you
and reimbursing the guilty
for all the things they do.”
Excerpt from: The Chemicals Between Us
By: Joseph DeMarco
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