Not One Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Not One



You go to
my Id

like the bubbles
in a glass

of Freudian
Champagne.

And I say to myself
get a hold of yourself

can’t you see
Freud’s just a load of balls.

She read me some
Luce Irigaray

& I became
acquainted

with THE SEX
WHICH IS NOT ONE.

Thursday, April 15, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: sex
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Dónall Dempsey

Dónall Dempsey

Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.
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