Good Sub: Part II

“Let’s see, what else is left for me?” B scanned her to-do-list “wear your leather bodysuit .”
B giggled at the idea of her suit being a “full-bodysuit” it looked more like a bunch of leather strips masterfully braided together by Daddy’s best friend and leather extraordinaire, Pig. No one designed leather gear like Pig who managed to make those strips of leather look so good, sexy and fashion forward. Daddy loved the bodysuit and B loved getting him all wet and hard. She got him hard and he fucked her; win-win situations excited her. The truth was that the bodysuit was also one of B’s favorites. The suite exposed so much of her skin, looking more like an “outline” of a bodysuit. Thick leather strips covered her nipples, with a built in ass-lift, the bodysuit was not quite crotch-less but framed her pussy lips perfectly; keeping them under pressure as if bound. She felt fucken nasty in it and desirable, always ready and open…always for her Daddy.
“I’m ready for you,” B would say looking straight into his eyes. B could pinpoint the second Daddy was fully turned on- something about the way his left eyebrow twitched. “I’m ready for you,” B would repeat just to see the twitch again. B liked to Top, but not in a snap-a-wrathful-whip-slashing-skin type of way but she used her words, her looks snapped at Daddy to the core. TWITCH.
Her bodysuit was just another way that B took a snap at Daddy. She liked that it was bare in the crotch, it saved time, he was always so hungry for her cunt and B loved letting him have it. He wanted her so much, B could tell the way he fucked her pussy as if it was going extinct, he fucked her as if his dick would be forever out of commission. No one had ever made B feel like that before, like her pussy walls were collapsing onto each other, like her soul was being expunged. For good or for bad Daddy always fucked her the same.

Good Sub: Part I

B looked at the clock, the tiny multicolored brackets flashed with vigor, it was her alarm reminding her that Daddy would be home in thirty minutes. Her nipples wet, cold and hard peered from the clammy water. She dreaded getting out of the bath. She loved to soak in hot water seasoned with mint and lavender scented Epson salts- just as Daddy had taught her to do. He stressed the importance of self-care to B, “how can I expect you to take care of my needs if you don’t know how to take care of your own,” he insisted.

B couldn’t refute, it took a lot of hard work to please Daddy. Today alone she had already shined 4 pair of boots, cleaned his chaps and vests, untangled floggers, set up the play room:
1. candles lit,
2. Daddy’s toy chest unlocked.
3. lube
4. gloves
5. First Aid kit
6. water and snacks
7. music set at the appropriate level

She stepped out the tub and checked her cunt in the mirror and admired her recently trimmed pubic hairs; a fine layer. Not too fine nothing too, prepubescent for Daddy. He liked his little girls to look grown. She trimmed herself right over the trashcan her brown shavings flaked right on top of the white crumpled tissues, in plain sight for Daddy to see, just a little something for the pig in him. Twenty minutes and counting, B needed to hurry. Knowing Daddy, he had packed his brief case, grabbed his coat, walked out of his office, locked the door, jiggled it one, two, three times to make sure it was locked, wished his Program Assistant a good afternoon, grabbed his sunglasses out of his left breast pocket and skipped out of the office at five on the dot.

Her Daddy, so handsome so ritualistic she loved his discipline. Daddy’s rules, everywhere she turned. The bed always nice and tidy, slippers peaking out from under the bed, floors vacuumed every third day, boots never scuffed, his favorite cock along with his other “pieces” stored in the third drawer of his dresser. Always stored ribbed red condoms for his brown cock, the one he liked to fuck her with the most, and the underwear he bought her always crotch-less if she was going to wear any at all. B was rewarded, deeply, sinfully painfully every time she followed Daddy’s rules. Ssss fuck! Time was ticking and she was so wet from daydreaming, pussy throbbing she took a deep breath, trying to control her cunt’ s pounding. Cunt pounding! Cunt pounding! Cunt pounding. Seventeen minutes to get ready and counting! She exhaled, and read over her list of tasks, she had a few yet to complete.

Hating on Proposals

Dear Selection Committee,


You want me to tell you
why I deserve the money
what I’d do with the money?
How will I grow you, money?
I’m going to use your money
and make you look good.
Oh yeah, make you look
so fucken good.
Cause I’m good.
We good?
People gon’ say
“Damn, how did they know
she was good?”
And that just means you gooder
than me.
You’re GOOD.
You’re a mother FUCKING

genius
putting this genius on stage.
Yeah, I said genius….
who else does your institution
represent?

I need to puSh thiS Shit out!!!!!
Ssssss, but it hurts
brain like
impacted glands
have me dragging my ass around
Pinch!
Pinch that shit tight, squeeze
like a penny pincher.

Come now, give me that money.
Let me show you how loud I toot
toot, toot, toot-a-loot
a lot of praises
and raises of the bar
going up to it and ordering
falling in that order
and getting mine…
Bartender!
Me, Goaltender!
Tending my goals,
can’t have them dropping
like chickens in the heat.

Cause, see I’m from the hood
100%
from a working immigrant
to working like an immigrant.
Don’t you like to hear that?
How come we haven’t met?
I’ll have that money coming in
I’m talking gross
not net.
All this talk about money
gross.
Give me the money
and I’ll show you how it’s done.
1500 words?
What time is it?
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit I’ve already won.

Before you know it,
you’ll have me
judging
3 or 4
your proposals.
You know it!
Asking me to do it again.
Great expectations
like a champion.
I’m a winner.
I’m a winner!
Enough with this word play.
Approve my proposal
I call it “Pay Day”!


Yours sincerely,

Remedios

Unas cuantas cucharadas
de miel
mezclado con jugo de limón.
Jarabe agridulce, lubrica
esa resequedad en
mi garganta.
Amargura silenciosa
que ahorca.
Me ahogo- tos
que raspa contra mis paredes
ecos del pasado
atrapados, pulsando
contra mis amígdalas.
Es infeccioso
como mantra
se me graba-
la mala maña
de tragarme
mis emociones,
que telaraña
que al fin se escapa
como calentura por mis poros
de mi ser enfermizo.

Remedio…
Embragada en un libro.
Caminar en la playa.
Unas nalgadas.
Unos besitos.
Espalda arañada.
¿Una palabra
ajustada contra la pagina,
como cura?
La palabra en mi diario
me ajusta, como un quiropráctico.
Me ajustan palabras
Siempre restan
para otro día.
Mañana- siempre llegare
a mañana mientras tenga
algo pendiente que expresar.
Escribo para no sentirme sola
Saber que no estoy sola.
En soledad
Intento tocar
tu pecho.
Vaporub caliente
Desencadenándote
Enredando te
Con mis enredos.
Around my finger
pero te recuerdo
y te quiero-
Dulce.


Te de manzanilla.
Te de yerba buena.
Te de canela.
Te de naranja, con canela y un hueso de aguacate
Hervido.

Sábila,
resbalosa
fuerte,
olorosa a sobaco.
Chocha sudada
olor atrapado en tus bellitos.
Sábila,
babosa, resbalosa, cascara dura
suave y brilloso tu interior
apacigua las punzadas que siento.

Apacíguate
Tomó te
Tómate
Un shot de tequila
cosquillitas en mi garganta
Lagrimitas acarician
Mi mejía
como decía
Que siempre compartir
alegría.
APOYO
me dijiste
“tienes talento…
eso ay que compartir”
Comparto contigo
comparto con migo
me despido
Pero no sin ruido.
Como chicharrón
Siempre haciendo ruido.

Ruinas
Arruinan
el momento.
Con presión
Momentum
fluye como sangre
Aja!
Ajo para alivianar la sangre
no traerla pesada
causa mucha presión.
Aguadas
siento las patas
calambres, me voy a cagar!
El culo tronando
Estomago revuelto
Empiezo a sudar!
Mi cabeza…
Vuela
papalote
suspiros
veo zopilotes
apesta a mortura
veo mi muerte.
Toalla caliente
arde contra mis ovarios
no me cague
ni vomite
me vine.
ay que remedio.

Dreams Remembered

I dreamt,
I remember.
Finally,
been a long time!
No longer will I
say I don’t remember
my dreams,
no longer will I question
why I’m alive.
Dreams, my compass
guide me to what I want to be.
Can’t have higher aspirations
than when your brain is at its highest-
peaking.
Peek into my future,
close my eyes and see
in front of me.
When I forget what I’m doing,
what I’m set for,
specks of dreams
mark my pace
make my pace
faster, heart, pace
like REM!
Pace myself, stay on track.
Follow my dreams,
Optical illusions?
Mine!
Desires exposed.

Sitting atop this hill
overlooking Ooh-LA- LA- land
enchanted by the bruised sunset,
smog’s optical illusion,
reminding me that I used to dream.
Before I floated through this world
like smog, heavy visible layer
creating optical illusions
of wonder, I used to dream.
Fingers moving
fast.
My words taking
flight.
Me the simple marionette
controlled by my dreams
such manipulators
carrot on a stick-
showing me my shtick.

Hit replay
Re-play
Re-wrote
Re-ad
d-RE-am.
Something’s gonna stick.
Not living vicariously
through No-ONE
just living vigorously.
Mom dreamt that one day
I’d be a secretary
But what do I expect
outta me?
One
una
sola
can only dream.

No thanks, I'm full...of it.

FUCK leather!!
Lately these days
long hours
late nights
shoulders knotted
eyes encircled with shade
head aches
pain,
what a nuisance-
leaving me
sin ganas to eat it.
LEATHER
For sure can’t wear it.
Not buying a quarter pound
not paying $200 for grey
leather Highway patrol pants.
Ditching the leather wear
that makes me hard,
wet like the moisture trapped
between my skin and “my skin”.
The truth
my finances have made shit hard
on me.

Every other day
getting mad mail
getting mad at my mail
shouting a big
FUCK YOU
to the system
of fixed interests
and out of order priorities
I mean principles.
Where are my principles?
Mailed off with 0% interest
just like that! (finger snap)
Sin querer quriendo
I gave it to me hard…again.
But nobody forces
Who forces? What?
My pen on that paper
that credit card in the slot
running it up and down
handling it like a handle
my name on everybody’s
lips.
Handle
slot machine with lesser returns
retail therapy minus the returns,
keep it-
keep it all.
What APR?
What a gamble.
Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching
CHA-CHING
Buying “bling”
getting legit-
It aint easy!
Fuck, my priorities
they gotta swing back
Montezuma’s revenge!
Back to the right side.
So fuck that hide!
Fuck it
BDSM
sin el leather
still denial
no release.

Denying myself
the goods
don’t need release.
Temporary loss, lapse of reality
every time I indulge in the pleasure
consumption.
Consumption-sumption where’s your gumption?
Consumption-sumption where’s your gumption?
Where’s your gumption?

Fuck, donde se me fueron los cojones?!
Como maricones,
I am scared of my ovaries.
There I said it guys
I said it gays
Looking at you right in the eyes!
Looking at you right dead in your
“I” (plural)
HIV is laden with misogyny
from the beginning
when they couldn’t
wouldn’t mouth the word
HIV equaled a gay man’s disease.
Gay men taking it up the ass = weak
Equals vulnerable
=
Me
woman.
Let’s look at it right there.
My transgender sisters lost in the muddle
puddle of men having sex with men
wanting to be counted for the women
the transgender WOMAN that you are.
Welcome to the invisibilizing world
that is being a woman
try to get them to really see a woman.
Now, transgender woman?
That is way beyond their imaginations
Way, way yonder, farther than this inflation has reached.
The numbers don’t lie
But labels do.

I don’t have
a poem of hunger
haven’t been hungry for a while.
Been stuffed
stuffing myself with other fillers
Carbs
shoving it back to the creditors
Don’t want to consume.

Consumption
sickness.
Symptoms include
insomnia
awake like “black Friday”
remedy 42 inches of plasma
hung over my theater center
leaving me hung over
with x-rays.
Leaving me full of it
low levels full.
I am full of it.
Masking my discomforts
with comforts…
steady job=
health insurance =
401K =
403 (B)=
sick and vacation days =
Ugh, security!
Security, strived for and received.
Getting my dividends
But not satisfaction
GUARANTEED!
Not satisfied, satisfied
still not satisfied.
Always the dwindling middle class
that’s a sign of no class,
we don’t talk
money in our house.
Wasn’t raised to,
“mums the word”
huh mom?
No one is supposed to know
how poor we were.
Stick that neck out!
Hold that head high
heavy with pride
all that sweat
slides down your back
broken on double shifts.
I don’t want to work
like a mule
dreams smuggled
across the border
chasing a dream
across the border.
American Dream.
Been told all my life
not American
Dream!
Not Mexican
Dream!
Not Chicana.
Dream control
You call it lucid dreaming
I call it life
manipulating my dreams.

Been manipulating
for fifteen years
my longest commitment
but why always half committed?
Look at me always spilling
My businesses
Get outta my businessss
Gonna make myself a businesss
Profit from my business
it’s for me
Just a simple pleasure
to HOWL
again and again
thank you stars
for listening
to me HoWL
always up like a night owl
long hours
late nights
shoulders knotted
eyes encircled with shade
head aches.
Pain,
keep me lucid
don’t want to loose
it, no, no
push it hard
natural birth
it was natural
earned it at birth?
Earn it
My labor of love
a living
writing to live
for a
living.
Keep reminding my self
LIVE IT
like skin
Fuck…leather!

Fucked Up Memory

“It’s just like heaven
bein’ here with you
you’re like an angel
too, good to be true”
-Rosie and the Originals

Too, good to be true?
Huh, must be why I forget
I can have you
whenever I want?
You’re my salt.
You make everything better.
Salt.
Sweat gathered
under my breasts.
Skin red
under my breasts.
Titties slapping
your ass smacking
against my mound.
Methodic.
Soft-mounds slapping
Hard!
FUCKEN burlesque
ain’t got nothing
on these.
Don’t make me twirl
these bitches!
Twirl around my thumb
finds your hole
worm myself inside
your hole, tight brown
fade to pink.
Eye squinting
starring at me.
WINK, WINK!
Each time I blow.
Slow, I dig in slow.
My thumb throbs
pleasure-pressure
pressing down on your spot.

I don’t recall
childhood growing pains
ankles never hurt
back no aches
Titties?
Little avocados
overly ripe
about to burst.
Easily bruised
my EGO
the stares.
Here we go!


Get outta your head!
They say.
Nah, nah,
I get’s into my head.
Close your eyes
lean back
get into my head.
Open wide.
Split you open
my tongue
splashes in your cunt.
You feel me?
That’s called inspire.
I get into my head
sucking hard on
hard swollen clit.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Look at you, getting into
my head.
Don’t push me out
let my thoughts
get fermented with you.
Filling up my pores
we penetrate each other.
I get into my head
deep
my thoughts
your juices slipping
between my fingers
opening and reaching
for more of you
grab a fist full of you
have your pulse
in the palm of my hand
have you in the palm of my hand.
You look so good
getting into my head,
got you arched
like a rainbow.
Look at all the colors,
wide blue eyes,
flushed cheeks
cotton candy mouth
screaming “PLEASE!”
Your fingers tangled
with my dark curls.
Dig into my head
smash me into your cunt
make me face my fantasies!
suck you like a slut
Can’t get enough?
Who? You or me?
Same!
Sluts.
Juice you like udders
Juice you
till your utters
echo in your throat.
Getting into my head
Cause that’s how I play
YOU
so good
like soft violins by the shore.
Call me prodigy.
My tongue flapping
like a fish,
I’m hooked.
going down
slow, down
like a shot.
Curl my fingers
hold you inside, tight
my finger prints all over
your walls.
Every ridge is alive
in the moment
get into momentum.
Squeeze my hand inside you
Peace!
Pieces
I want to fuck you to pieces
pump that cunt
fuck you hard
uh con gannas,
ay ese feeling!
Got it hot
the center of my chest
a crescent glows
that there
that’s were my good fucking grows
like your throbs I feel
pressing against my knuckles grow.
Shit gets hot
the puddle under my titties grows.
Mercury you slip through my fingers
quick silver droppings on the floor.
Scattered,
feels so scattered
“Being here with you”