It’s dirty poem Monday at Book Oven’s favourite indie publisher, Bookkake. Today, Ondaatje’s Cinnamon Peeler:
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon…
[more...]
2 Comments
Why am I starting to think the “Book Oven” is a euphemism for something way more pervy than I’d imagined?
Don’t disappoint!
Well, I guess it depends what people want to, erm, stick in the oven. So to speak.