Author: Lola Gentry-Dey

Devil Music

Dana skipped out on going to the heavy-metal rock concert. Her mother’s church had her believing that the concert would exhort the crowd to rape and murder. Rock and roll music had always been the catalyst of evil; she’d been told this repeatedly over the years by her mother. Even the innocent-looking Beatles of the

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Seduction

Today at market, shopkeepers showcased brand-new cars and seduced nearsighted and potbellied old men with promises to stop their loneliness. The promises were offers of a future spent speeding on swift wheels. And so the old men were kissed by shiny chrome rubbing their trousers, and were spent dreaming of getting laid upon the smooth

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Benefactor

“He’s out there,” my mother said. She rushed from the front window and snatched her cell phone from the dining room table. Her hand trembled while she dialed. She almost dropped the phone twice before she put it to her left ear. “Hello? Police?” Her face contorted into a mask of disappointment. “Sorry,” she said,

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Our Differences

You are full brazen; Your swollen tan lies crisp on sunbaked sand; You call attention to my snug rounded smooth firm thighs, But you take my breasts in hand instead. Seductive anticipation, You promise me the taste of fried chicken skin; And so my mouth waters all woman— Course and raspy pudding under foot. But

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Tonight

Tonight embraces me with its darkness That’s where you will find me Alone Waiting for you Waiting with loving hands Wanting you Quivering with anticipation beneath my consuming touches of exploration Darkness, do not mute my cries Ablaze inside the night Find me Caress me Take me to the pinnacle spinning out of control Guttered

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Trembles: An Ode To Dali

Quiet trembles speak frozen morning creakings. Heaped breaths billow from seekers seeking suet and seed. Rabbits and mice eat carrots and cornmeal at my feet. Thunderous trembles agonize across my front lawn when John Dey’s sky blue Chrysler drags ass past us and sends bone saw grunts to scamper my guests from the open sea

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Rain

Rain on the window paints calligraphy on my wall— I recite verses to music playing where pear flower stars burst forth in the multicolored bowl on my kitchen table where I once compared nature with artifice and made love to the girl with ornamental hair That’s what happens, she says to me now, when tradition

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Finding Love

Again we are moved, obsessed, reaching out, entwining. Enter me, I plead. Sate me, I beg. Below my window moonlight covers us as we climb higher; the peak is ever closer, closing in; all the right switches are being connected. We find our sweet release in each other’s arms. We come together, trying not to

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Driven To And From Black And White

There it is in black and white, this feeling that drives me to sexual intercourse. It’s old tingles that used to come in color when I was barely a teen. But the passage into adulthood has clouded the rainbow till now I come alone in storms, my eyes searching with a half-smile for the sunlight

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Steamy Passions, 3

Moonlight spills across our bed revealing the smile on your sleeping face— No doubt you’re dreaming of an earlier passion spent Watching you sparks an ember glowing and a sudden thrill percolates in me So I close my eyes and send my hands drifting to a warm moist place spotlighted by the moonbeam’s gentle glow

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When I A Child

When I, a child, when I could, I voyaged out into your cool company— the coldness of boots pulled on at the doorstep before walking that large solitude of no cricket, no owl; walking with silent snow feet among birdless woods tossed among the taste of echoed blood at such a time, invisible and dull

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When I Came With You

It was here one night among white blossoms that we lay and were touched while the rest of the world snored in their small beds. We breathed frost words on branches, breathing deeply in the deep woods with no earthly destination, hidden behind the pulse of dawn throbbing upon a trigger’s touch. You were delicate

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The Sea

The sea is nearly silent around me. A faint skitter of fiddler-crabs upon the sand connects to a murmur of the night-wind in the palm trees behind me. My lover tide is making low complaints like the ache of earth caressing and bitter against an expectant land. I keep half-awake the anguished spirit of self-love,

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Remembering

Do you remember how we crept along fences young together I, at twelve, stumbled through the other side of eternity never to think we’d ever become middle-aged Do you recall homesick high-school weeks making us feel gentle like days of a last breathless uncertain chord played— a warm rich memory of an old woman’s concert

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Bones in the Sand, 2 of 2

Jillian Seeger held her youngest son to her bosom and calmed him. Kenny sat nearby, watching. He leaned toward them with excitement building on his face and refrained from speaking. His mom was still hushing his little brother. “There, there,” Jillian said, “a skeleton in the sand, that’s all it was and nothing more. Nothing’s

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Our Kisses

We bedded with moss and leaf and sand drenched in that evening’s rain; a shimmering surf at our thighs where diamonds and poetry wept on our ocean waves. We stirred to passions rising in us, caressing below an unwatched moon. mouths lips open touched together pressed hot wet arms sparked entwined legs Your breath and

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The Vampire and the Girl

The vampire said, “I would like to bring a smile to your face. I promise I won’t bite.” “Please, oh please,” she said, “bite me, yes! I’m longing to feel your mouth between my legs!” She stood over him and planted her feet wide on either side of his coffin. Her upper legs opened and

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Dissimilar Worlds (Dressing Revisited)

Sometimes I still dress in past transgressions— I like how I look; old styles are comfortable in vogue color, length and brand. But you would strip me naked; dress me in a style that won’t embarrass you— dress me like the Christ you wear on you even though I’m everything you want: my sex, my

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I Love A Leanan Sidhe

I first met a Sidhe when I was 20. Leanne O’Brian was Irish and believed very much she was an actual descendant of a Leanan Sidhe (pronounced lan-awn she). She was beyond gothic-punk and World of Darkness games. She was real and beautiful and captivating. Leanne fascinated me with her Sidhe tales. I knew little

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News Update

I am in Hawaii right now, staying with my mom and cousin. My cousin is a nurse. I’m recuperating from an accidental overdose of acetaminophen and alcohol. If you want, you can read about it on the internet. Just look for how poisons can cause coma. Yes, Tylenol is also a poison. I awoke from

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Dead Life

He died before I was born But still she masturbates to his picture Still she comes to his songs She weeps to know he’s at a standstill Her grief rises from the icy depths of our dead planet Her tears fall from a broken sky at the threshold of her own dark doorway destination And

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There’s Still Time

The young woman came across an ad in the Sunday paper for an upcoming movie called The Golden Compass. She grew instantly excited and babbled to her mother and aunt how this is the greatest thing ever. Of course, they give her that look, the Mr. Spock of Star Trek look, the one with one

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Cobbled Country Lane

I sit upon a cobbled country lane just off the highway to Buffalo, New York, where summer’s sunlight bathes me between the leafy trees. A light breeze moves across me before skimming to the lake while I wait for any passerby, any good person to stir my mind reflecting what is, what to do—be lost

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Nightmare 2

I knew the way back to Clearview. I also knew the many miles that lay ahead of me. When I reached the highway, I didn’t slow down. I popped up a thumb and prayed for someone to pick me up. No one stopped. After walking for nearly three hours my stomach complained of being hungry.

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Nightmare 1

The rush of icy air filled my lungs and brought my senses back. I was in my bed, but the dark creature from the tree had followed. It hovered above me, levitating by the magic it used to lure me to its lair. My scream burst from my mouth. I thrashed and kicked at my

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Upon Broken Rocks

Upon broken rocks along the shoreline The caves of storm nymphs hold scattered remains of every sunken ship There walks Adam’s Lilith — Collier’s too Her body covered by the serpent’s twine — ophidian lover — demon of night and day They dance surrounded by sweet sirens songs They weave their tapestry before a lengthy

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Down the River Hebrus

I dreamed I sailed alone down the river Hebrus to the island Lesbos where I found sudden love at the center of a liquid mirror that reverberated with the clear perfection of my face—sweet with angel grace, as done by the master hand of the world’s finest Victorian painter. The morning sun behind me poured

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Lavender

I like how I look wearing lavender No deep yellows to energize your permanence for me No hot pink except inside me No rich purple royal sainthood Or the vibrant green envy and jealousy you love And no riotous reds to make you want to strip off my dress No No stark raving vehemence ready

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Melted Ice

Night in the city has a strange sound The way roof ice speaks before it melts Pools down Rushes gutters Raises the river’s rage below me Melted ice flows over my boot tops Down interwoven streets with city signs that claim they take us to Homes Schools Businesses Somewhere Anywhere Everywhere that is nowhere to

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Between

Once when I was twelve, an early morning of touching myself rescued me from my erotic dream. My pillow smothered my orgasmic cries. One’s pillow could be a girl’s best friend. Nearer to being my behaved self when I left the house, mother and I spent the bright and hot Sunday morning at Uncle Brian’s

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Unleashing (Alone Again)

Aching Eyes wide open I lie in bed ready Knowing this feeling Almost like dread Anticipating the climax almost to me Feelings strengthen Seconds crash like waves washing over me Sweet surrender contractions Quake my core Mind Body Soul charging forth from its depth Galloping up Soaring over rivers unleashed Hear my cries of joy

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Tense Silence (Alone Again)

Tense silence in my bedroom but not in my bed Heavenly hymns hum from fingers strumming Pressing down hot on me Playing music’s sweet songs in my head Trembling lines of delightful tension certainly make this moment more attractive I find a new discovery and add it to old ones But no one sees the

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Waking (Alone Again)

Naughty aching Eyes wide open I sit in bed ready Naked Knowing this feeling Almost like dread: Anticipation of the climax almost to me The feeling gets stronger As the seconds crash like waves washing over me I close my eyes Sweet Surrender Dew Bubbling forth Trickling down Over folds Moist and glistening My core

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Goodbye Coming

Judy’s blonde hair frames a pretty face My libido grabs me by the folds Her pretty red blouse peaks where no boy ever made mine feel any good She knows open mouth She speaks fluent oral communication Her soft lips are full and taste like silky high-life laughs and cries Laugh and cry I came

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Alone

Alone Tense and horny Silence in her bedroom but not in bed Her hand wanders downward Playing Alone Mirror watching Reflections She hums music Sweet songs in her head Humming hymns and strumming chords of her favorite songs Fingers Music Playing Pressing hot Agile hands certainly make the moment more attractive Fingers reaching Probing Dirty

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