Fucking America by JoJo Jacobson

I love America like an orgasm.
Because it often makes me scream,
sometimes it makes me giggle,
and if I am not ready for it,
it makes me cry.

I love the poetry and poets
(of America and orgasms)
because they do the same,
WhitmanAngelouMorrisonGinsbergDifranco
would never exist without
America,
like most of my orgasms.

I love that I live in a place
that does not cut off my clit,
that does not marry me off
to a man I hate,
that does not work
to hush modesty upon the gorgeous spasms
it gives my heart and mind,
and lets me howl
as loud as I fuckin’ want.

I love that it makes me pant
and rant, and gnash my teeth
and scream obscenities
and see differently
and move my ass
and remember the beautiful
while getting fucked deeply.

I hear it singin and swingin
and getting brazen and shameless,
it rambles and hums and changes,
trembling and hard
fertile and powerful
yelling and clashing and–
yes.
And sometimes it waxes poetic
just like me.

I fucking love America
like an orgasm
because it is where I come from
and who I am.

 

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