The first time I used profanity,
I laid my head upon my mother’s lap
and fucking wept,
not yet old enough to remember
that some things are banned from
the young’s mouth.
The shit that fell off of the tongue
was a dirty thing; quick, vile &
It was similar to a reckless dick
needing something vaginal to approve
in the thick jungle for the damned
where Gods go to fuck in the dark
rooms of brothels.
I have been made ashamed of the things
that I have said but aren’t we allowed
to color the speech dark?
No matter the gauntlet of slang that I
exploit above the tongue, I am still here
& among the living.
So this poem is a prayer for the sinned.
Not for those who wipe the mouth clean
& leave the body foul.