Why Can't Good Girls Say "Fuck"?
Since when was cursing not good for the soul?
A well-placed fuck has
helped many a good girl
stay the path, forge forward
with ever greater conviction
to admonish or applaud
those events in life
that require more than imperative punctuation –
a stubbed toe, the winning goal,
forgotten keys and dropped phones,
getting the job, coming…
all made manifest with one word,
Less confident ladies
cite manners and etiquette,
obsequious aspirations meant to mute,
demean, and confuse –
they struggle and fumble their words,
sounding more like babbling babies
than self-assured goddesses.
If you are a good girl,
an honest girl, a girl with gumption,
seize your words unapologetically;
concern yourself with your actions
more than your mouth.
Shuck a fuck into the wind and ride it
like a bucking bronco
into the twenty-first century
because what the fuck is a “good” girl anyway?
The Fountain of Youth
I see her burgeoning belly.
I never made it that far.
You were nothing.
I mean it was nothing.
So I became nothing.
Her shirt flows out in front of her stomach
And hangs there like a portrait
In which I can see dozens of smiling faces.
Does she see it as a shield?
Does she think she needs one?
How perfect is perfect
When it’s something you don’t even think about.
God she’s beautiful –
Her swollen feet, her grand belly.
Her breasts move like water.
Surely she is the Fountain of Youth.
I bit into you and you gushed forth
The way I imagine stars are born
My chin was wet with red sugar
And your skin was caught up
In my teeth in jagged pieces
I held my head over the sink
Letting you flow wild
White water over my knuckles
I swallowed feverishly
Suckling on you like an infant
Reaching for the nipple
Before knowing what it is
I put all of you in my mouth
Scratching life from seed
Never born newborn
Your mother has bloomed
About Rachel Caruso-Bryant
Rachel Caruso-Bryant is from Florida and is now an English language lecturer at a university in Saudi Arabia. She lives with her husband and cats and travels the world whenever she gets the chance. She enjoys writing about cultural identities and displacement, her experiences abroad, and what it means to be a woman of the world. She misses the smell and sound of rain storms terribly. Her poems have appeared in the Crossways Literary Magazine, The Stark Poetry Journal, Rat’s Ass Review, Gambling the Aisle, The Skinny Poetry Journal, A Lonely Riot, Gravel, The Red Eft Review, HitchLit Review, and more.