Is There Any Other Kind?
for Anne Sexton and the Lonely Masturbator
So I went to the library today and while I was in there figured
maybe I should give her another chance
so I picked up a copy of her collected poems
and since I was there already and when I saw it
it made me laugh I grabbed a copy of
The Man With The Hoe And Other Poems
by Edwin Markham, too
turns out the dude was really just into his gardening tool
and everyone who’s ever checked out her collected poems
immediately turned to page 198 and The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator
and then they just stopped there and gave up turning to something else
because when you pick up the book it automatically opens there
to that page and that poem, its spine breaks there
and then that’s it
masturbation followed by nothingness followed by a silence
that sounds like the moon
so I figured hell, might as well restart there
where her masturbator is lonely
but really, is there any other kind?
when I’m masturbating odds are
I’m alone and also lonely
and if I’m masturbating and I’m not alone
I’m not lonely, right?
because I’m not alone?
and also I’m probably thinking something like
why am I doing this all by myself over here?
this is just silly
we’re supposed to be doing this together
why don’t you get over here and “say nice things to me”
ala Matchbox Twenty songs and shit
why wouldn’t you be over here giving me a hand?
Historical Note: the key to not crying while you’re doing yourself
is significantly dependent on one’s ability to not think
about the fact that you probably wouldn’t be masturbating
if the one you’re hung up on wasn’t someplace else getting
her Prunus spit on by some dude who still reads Hustler
don’t even start thinking about whether he’s better at love-banging her
then you or if his penis is bigger or crooked in an oddly pleasing way
because you remember hearing someone saying something about that
somewhere, how the oblong’d shape is sometimes preferable
to the unflexablly straight
don’t even start thinking about the fact that right now some other dude’s
crooked dick is getting the gal you love off
(ouch)
because if you start thinking that way
when you’re masturbating, or when I’m masturbating
well I’ll tend to Hulk-out a little bit
and cease being gentle in a situation where the occasion calls
for one to be at least a little bit gentle
and instead of the sympathetic romance of my hand going down on me
or however you’re supposed to put it
it starts to look more and more
like I’ve just lost another 75 cents in the Diet Coke vending machine
and I’m just punching myself
in the dick
Sex marries the bed over and over again
but I don’t have a bed anymore
so I’m pretty much single
beds
when slept in alone
scare the fucking Strangers out of me
for years now when I sleep
if I’m sleeping
I’ve signed myself a precarious pre-nup
with the couch
my loneliness has its own library
loves jerking off
but well read
Multiverse Johnson 