Three Poems
By Allie Rowbottom - Feb 26, 2021
Obligatory Orgy Poem
polished wedding ring
satin bodysuit
mink lashes
glued by a girl
at Sephora
who airbrushed my face
for free
you want to be the hottest one
she said and thanks to her I felt
contoured masked
lashed
to the yacht
the skyline
rough waters and
watered drinks
straddling in a corner
singing
happy birthday
my seasick love
pretend it’s just us
and when another man’s hand
reaches
for mine
no
I never want to hold it
*
yearly we ask this question
who wants it really
and why that next birthday in Tulum
with a different man and his
escort
everyone begged off but
me
pushing
pink powder 2CB
fortieth full wolf moon
and we’d never see
these people again
*
except they lurk
among my stories still
flames from him
when I’m hot
flames I leave
on seen
I emptied my checking
buying his girl
coke and cab fare
a chump
for my baby’s
birthday
anyway whatever
so long as there’s
no question
whose corner
I go down on
So I Share Sexy
Lose
Followers
Buy more, working it wrong,
Looking for skin
Texture and Kylie’s true jawline,
Tina Louise’s waist
#transformationtuesday
#photoshopfails
#problematicfame, it’s important to point out,
Is not IRL
Where my breasts are perfect pockets,
Silicone sewn up
So easy, all that love
That ass tho, a wilted lettuce leaf–
Size of a man’s palm–
Folded in place of burger bun
Ass as plant, as implant
Can’t grow
The Brazilian Butt Lift is a gold standard
One in three thousand patients die for it
Psychic Narcissism
I consulted a medium
who said my mother would return
in the form of a butterfly
It was the summer of the great Painted Lady migration,
the result of heavy winter rain
In the course of a day a billion butterflies
I kept hitting them with my car
I believe in spirits and have
since childhood,
when the dog died
suddenly, on the threshold of my room
My father called a pet psychic
who said the animal absorbed his rage
so I wouldn’t and it rotted her
My father believed
He wept, made promises,
then got another dog and when she died,
another, always female and yellow haired, like me
But easy to train, he says,
Unlike some people
My mother, who left
to live in a safe house
next to a sheep farm,
ate lamb chops every night
Meat was what she wanted,
broiled and buttered
She wanted to be skinny and satiated
She wanted to be beautiful but never to fuck
She wanted a facelift and got one
I wish I’d asked to see the scars
It’s too late, she told me, once cancer made her
thin and listless,
but I’ve never felt sexier
She died three months later
What her last words were
I’ll never know
I know only that my mother wanted to be immortal
and I wrote the book that made her
After the butterflies,
The book,
I still believed in psychics
and saw one who said the vibe in my
root chakra
was of trying to leave a bed someone else was sleeping in
without causing a stir
I just need to get outside the room, he said, channeling,
I just need to figure out what I want
and shut the door behind me very softly