38. HOROSCOPES AND MO(U)RNING

From the Archives

(March 2005) I woke up sobbing this morning—big, gasping, painful sobs—and all I could do was curl up into a ball and wail. I don’t remember what I was dreaming either and I wish I did.

Started my dang period last night too, blast it all, which made me think about that bad penis envy poem I included a couple of entries ago.

Here’s the thing. I don’t envy a dick—can replicate it fine for fucking purposes and love the pleasure the body parts I have provide me—but I do envy the ability to have any kind of sex I want any day of the month I want without bleeding everywhere and do not particularly like spending 5 or more days a month bleeding.

Gotta get back to work now but, first, let me add Rob Brezsny’s latest Free Will Astrology horoscope:

A recent poll revealed that more and more people are enjoying oral sex. In the last three years alone, the percentage has increased from 74 to 79 percent. For members of the Aquarian tribe, that figure is likely to zoom precipitously upward in the coming weeks, as will the sheer number of erotic encounters involving the lips and tongue. In fact, all activities involving pleasure with the mouth are likely to lead to success and happiness, including (but not limited to) gourmet eating, loud singing, and wild talking. For extra credit, try combining two activities: gourmet eating and wild talking, for instance, or singing and oral sex.

I recommend champagne and sex myself. Mmm.

35. PENIS ENVY

From the Archives

(March 2005) My pal Christine is re-reading a thin volume of Adrienne Rich poetry that she read in college and realized that it provides a yardstick by which she can measure how much she has changed. The poems seem angry to her now but, of course, she has changed, not the poems. They're exactly the same.

Interesting how we often need to traverse that reactionary domain before we can settle into a place with less anger and more acceptance ... but with a firmer grasp of our beliefs, our convictions.

I had similar experiences with some of Muriel Rukeyser’s poetry and find some of it too strident now (although I admire her commitment to being a poet/activist).

So now an untitled poem by Alta from the No More Masks! anthology:

penus envy, they call it
think how handy to have a thing
that poked out; you could just shove
it in any body, whang whang & come,
wouldn’t have to give a shit.
you know you’d come!
Wouldn’t have to love that person,
trust that person.
whang, whang & come.
if you couldn’t get relief for free,
pay a little $, whang whang & come,
you wouldn’t have to keep, or abort.
wouldn ’t have to care about the kid.
wouldn’t fear sexual violation.
penus envy, they call it,
the man is sick in his heart.
that’s what I call it.

I believe someone should introduce Alta to some kind gay men. And to dildos. Yeah, maybe that woman Cloud from the women’s music festivals could introduce Alta to dildos. (Remember Cloud? Surely there are other lesbians out there who remember Cloud. She sold crystal dildos. They were beautiful. But what if one broke?)

LISTENING TO: ani defranco’s amazing “Amazing Grace”