About that time I had a hard-on at prom....
is no sensitive, tactful, tasteful way
to talk about sex
...at least when it comes to poetry
when the details are sort of important.
A lot of writers get skewered
for writing dumb sex scenes
but what else are they supposed to do?
Not go into details?
Then they'd get skewered for not going into detail.
It's what we call
on the one hand,
and on the other hand
I wanted to write a poem
about when I was a sophomore
in high school
and my very first girlfriend
who we'll call 'Cha Chas'
invited me to her junior prom
the next town over.
Cha Chas was more than beautiful at the time.
I was just as dorky then as
I am now and I wondered
what she was doing with me.
She had a thin waist
a curvy ass
that could've created tsunamis
if she fell into the ocean just right.
And lips that touched mine as soft
as a cloud of fog the moment
before it dissipates.
Of course I went
to the prom with her.
And we made out all night,
because that's what teenagers at prom do and it was
Except, because she was my first
because I was fifteen and because
I'm a quarter Italian
every time we kissed
I got a brick-hard
Every goddamned time.
I couldn't control it.
This included that particular prom evening.
And I was wearing some black dress pants
which provided little cover
for my erection
and the entire junior prom
saw my erection. And it wasn't
like I could just press closer to Cha Chas
to keep the erection from showing,
because what was she going to think then?
Was that a flute in his pocket?
Why would he have a flu- -
OH! ! !
when you live in a small town
it's kind of important to not
go walking around with erections in public places.
Word gets around quickly and people
like to make fun of other people
any chance they get.
It makes them feel better.
And the vast majority of people are smart enough
to not give others
to make fun of their erections.
That's the kind of thing from which there
is no comeback, no riposte, no counter-punch.
I handled the writing of this poem
as delicately as I could.
But I was still talking about an erection.
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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