Words from Christina

when I was five my teacher forced me to learn to read
by tapping each word with a small sharp cane- i remained silent - staring- words stuck in my throat - when she hit me- they fell out

my mother wanted her children to speak well - she purchased four candy sticks to give her children - for christmas - on her way home three of the candy sticks broke -  one fat erect stick was left - she said the child who pronounces "towel" most beautifully for the rest of the year shall get the whole candy stick

every day I chanted towel obsessively - my tongue rich - slurping the candy stick haunted my dreams - i must possess it -
i journeyed up and down the long dark passage - a primordial howl toweling out of my throat

on christmas morning i received a broken candy stick -  the fat erect one had broken - i fell to the ground screaming - my mother flung me into the bathroom and shut the door - snatching up the towels - i made a nest on the floor and pissed into them - my piss hot - slowly seeping - ecstatic - nesting - i discovered the true meaning of towel

reading these words - these poems -  handling them joyously - i am reminded that poetry is beyond what we are taught- the essence of the image rushes behind the word

Christina Conrad
guest editor - issue 3 blackmail press
Publishers Note:
Please note all guest book entries will be notified to Christina Conrad so please feel free to leave your feedback to her. All inquiries to Christina Conrad emailed to BMP will be forwarded. - Doug Poole