Kraken Fodder

“beat this: what do you call 💦 in a woman? loading the dishwasher.”

what do you call it when you, in all your hubris, can’t even spell out the word

cum?

what do you call it when you, in your attempt to excite me, disturb me, perturb me,

can’t even stand ten toes down on your quest and actually insult me?

my dishwasher-laden vagina is lined with rows of shark teeth,

jagged rock, and treacherous waves

a storm so vicious and all-consuming, poseidon seeks comfort in scylla’s path

just to evade me

I stretch across the roaring winds, reaching all seven seas and swallow blue whales,

cargo ships, and kraken

islands with lighthouses and megalodon skeletons

you are a seal

a clump of seaweed

those plastics that hold together soda cans

come all you want, you wouldn’t make a sound anyway

buoyed amongst the surfaced remains