Two Prose Poems [by Nin Andrews]

Yes

Orgasms are bad news. In the town where I grew up, orgasms were against the law. No one had an orgasm, not even God. By the time I was twelve, I wanted an orgasm. Just one, I begged. Then one day, everything changed. My body caught fire. Everyone knew. Everywhere I went the men took off their trousers and shoes and their skinny black socks. The men (such men!) became acrobats in disguise. Who would have guessed? And I? I was so much in love! And wanted to record their every color and size and shape, not to mention their flavors and moods. Life is so fleeting, is it not? And what is more fleeting than a man?

And so it was that I came to write A Field Guide to Nudes. A Field Guide to Desires. A Field Guide to Orgasms . . .

I was so busy with my research, I had no time to reflect. (Some say I was obsessed. It’s true!) No time to consider the consequence of my acts. Of course I should have known. The people were outraged. They chased me into the streets and out of the city gates. Now I can never go back. I live alone with my desires. With my dreams that never stop dreaming. With these orgasms that never stop singing my name. Yes, it’s a fact! Whatever they say, I can only sigh and say yes. Whatever they wish for, I just say yes. Yes! Yes! I say yes. Again and again, I say yes. And I will say it for you if you ask. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Never Say Yes

Each day I positioned myself carefully. I wouldn’t move a muscle. I would tell myself I was in good hands. Of course, it is only natural to be a little uneasy. To think of upsetting an order so nicely arranged, every hair in place. Blown dry. Sometimes I even mastered a windblown look as if I had been flying. People suspected me of having been out on the sly. Of living a secret life. They said, it’s a very bad sign. And a woman like that. Who would have thought? For so long they trusted me; they even called me one of their own. I who always yearned to be possessed. When confronted, I solemnly swore that I hadn’t budged an inch. Nor had I blinked. I never let on. But gradually I began to display the tell_tale symptoms. Every crime needs a criminal. Nothing can be done about it. Spectators come in droves. Mothers warn their children, See what happens? And to think. I who was taken in by such a nice family. Good, hard_working folk. And they thought I was such a good egg. Look what happens whenever you say yes.

from the archive; first posted  June 29, 2008