The Least Sexy Sex Poem

by Kayla Hogan

Suck my dick.
No, really, can you please suck my dick?
I’m gonna fuck you up.
Ooooh yeah, fuck you up and down.
Wait, before you stick your hand so far into my vagina
that you’ll need a new wristwatch,
let me lick that leftover saag paneer off them fingers.
Mmm mmm. Spicy. OK, go.
Want you to pull my hair like I’m that little schoolgirl,
and toss me around like I’m her brother’s football.
Push all my not-buttons and hold on to my not-handles.
Pull me closer, crush my ribs, bruise me up.
Good, now let’s try to shove into places where we don’t fit.
Let’s motherfucking die trying.
Then, later, when the men are carting our naked bodies off to the morgue,
and their hands can’t get a grip,
they’ll know damn well why we were so sweaty.
(God bless men’s hands.)

Kayla Hogan is a twenty-something in Kansas City, Missouri, who spends most of her days talking to senior citizens about dying. She currently writes for no one, but sure would love to.