For A French Teacher, On Titty Fucking, Pearl Necklaces

La bete humaine,
her hands in furious tempest
tossing necklaces of precious pearl

while across town,
latter-day precocious saints
snooze and tossing
turn their thoughts from draping tricoleurs,
Imperious, unfeeling, cruel

Gallic superiority
and crude contests of the subjunctive will
battle for the hearts and minds
of America’s Future!

Dread foreign influence!
Dead, powdered nasal Continental poetic flatulence!

There can be no peace with such unnecessary pain–
this blood letting,
this flat-chested, titty-fucking rug burn
insane clandestine excuse for a langue;

no quarter for Latin potentates,
their concubines and demonic
Libertine sexual appetites;

get behind! Back up the conjugal impalers–
those cruel almost perfect
temporal black sails

and spread some bonnes nouvelles:

that class is canceled–
it’s Revolution till the bell.

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One Comment on “For A French Teacher, On Titty Fucking, Pearl Necklaces”

  1. Ruth says:

    I love this poem, even with its overuse of $5 words. The language is harsh and powerful.


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