FALL 1997 ISSUE
I want to live in Madonna's video world, a world where men and women are not equal. I want the whole king size bed to myself and all the covers. I want to borrow his shirts and never return them and I want to complain if he leaves his socks on in bed. I want to cum...
All right. You know the routine. It began with the Kinsey Report (actually 100 years earlier, in Germany, with Heinrick Kann's Psychopathis Sexualis) to be followed by Masters and Johnson, then the Shere Hite surveys and scores of other imitators, all exploiting the theory that if one wants to write about cutting edge or taboo sexual topics, all one needs to do is package the writing as a "scientific" study, and then include plenty of "personal" anecdotes...
Christina finished cutting the peanut butter sandwiches into strips and arranged them in a circle on a plate painted with lacy green vines. "i am going to have Sweet 10 in my ice tea," she announced. "it tastes great but only has ten calories per serving. do you want Sweet 10 or sugar?"...
There we were...walking on a moonlit beach...the waves crashing on the shore. The starlight danced in your eyes, as the warm breeze carressed our bodies. As the sounds of reggae drifted through the air, our loins pulsated with desire. Taking you in my muscular arms, our lips locked...
I'm feeling a strong urge so I go to the local Ground Round and feel-up Michelle, the clown, while she ices a cake for some kid's party. She goes out nipples hard to entertain while I piss in hot fat of the french fry cooker enjoying...
Uncertain figures seek each other out in newfound darkness As hesitant lips touch, unsure of acceptability. Now, as sunless sky streams through vertical blinds Spilling lavishly over our warm and shaking selves, We undress...
People, people everywhere, surrounding me, engulfing me. Flashes of conversation run through my head like long lost memories; "And I said..." ..."Fuck off honey pie, that's saved for...The man who did my tile roof last year...
The rain came, mean rain on a spring day cruel as winter, and she stood in the middle of the meadow, crying because she'd been so stupid. She knew the rain would come, as it did every year at this time, and still Jane had ignored the broken generator, relied on fate to decide if the rain would come hard enough...
John lay on the high four-poster, the two glasses of wine warming his naked body to a tentative inner heat. Miss June had warned he would feel like sleeping the minute he lay atop the deep purple comforter and John was trying his best to keep a wake. Best not to close his eyes and loose one second of this night, John mused; he had paid greatly for the privilege of being in Miss June's care...
They had come to the end of another session, and Brian closed his sketchbook, stretching back with a wide yawn. David followed suit more slowly, wiping the charcoal smears off his hands with a baby wipe.
"What will you do in the meantime?" my lover says to me as he dresses to leave the motel room that has concealed us for an afternoon. The meantime. I shudder under the covers...
The second mandarin goby has managed to stay alive for three days now. Ella is wrestling with the prospect of naming him. She knows he will die eventually and that by naming him she will have made a step in some direction. She doesn't fear the emotional attachment as much as she fears that watching him die...
-Dad, are all Vietnam Vets suff'ring from Post Combat Stress Syndrome?
-No, Joey, or course not, where d'you get an idea like that?
-Are you?
-I wasn't in Vietnam, Joey.
-Oh, then where d'you get the AK-47 you keep under your mattress...
Go to Sauce*Box Winter 1997-98
My scarlet fertility disgusts him.
Repulsed by my feminity,
He bestows no touch or caress
Upon me as I bleed...
The delicate hands of the clock
Bear such pleasures of a physical nature,
The hour and the minutes and their passion come upon him
And touch his and lick his face and...
It was supposed to be business
how could I have known sitting in the airport
waiting for tall black hair, skinny leather tie
that it would only be a matter of a few laughs
a few miles a few quaaludes and I would offer...
miles
beyond
the ass of
figure skating
gymnastics and
women's
volleyball
your ass
is...
he was lying in the hallway
between the bathrooms
as we headed back
from the card room
to the bar...
our small boat rises quiet with the tide -
the mooring tugs it in toward the shore.
tight ringlets dark, the color of first blood,
enough to coil...
want to touch your hair reach out
let you know I know
what you're doing. Fuck the meat
off these dead bones...
Within the warmth of wetness
I dream. An easy slipping away,
The slick and slurp of each
Finger...