Teaching Politicians Empty Heat
poetry by Ashleigh Taylor
Teaching Politicians Empty Heat
When she says, “Fuck Donald Trump,”
i imagine consent, peeling away layers,
sweaty
excuse for formality, one
after another
rubbing up against his
supposed glory, his dick
dangling sadly
i would grab him by his
man-pussy, his
weak excuse for phallic
structure, defective vibrator.
i will make his dick swell so
that it breaks his idea of women
as
table lamps or chairs or
useless.
so that he sees my power.
I will teach him what it is to really
admire the warmth and presence of a
body, to fuck
senselessly, carnally, and then
i will tear away the pretense, the
longing, stealing his power.
it would be cathartic like
shaving death off yourself.
cathartic like dying before i can repeat my mistakes.
Ashleigh Taylor
Ashleigh Taylor is a recent college graduate who spends her days working retail, petting cats, and hunting for the elusive teaching
job. Her work can be found in The Oakland Review, Rivercraft, and Sanctuary Magazine.