Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Last Rites




I have often paddled
past my margin of safety,
once fucking a madman
in the lull of a hurricane's howl.

I have splashed eagerly
through baptismal pools, immersing
myself in sins shed by others,
to sample ungodly fruit.

I have seduced liars,
beggars, rich men, & priests,
stolen chocolates from
old ladies, and called
evangelical talk shows just
to rate my last bedded lover.

I do not come seeking
absolution, confessional wafers
or prayers for salvation.

My only request is that
I exit this lifetime
straddling the lap
of a warm, lusty man,
muscatel tumbling empty
from one fading hand.


Pris Campbell
©2003

Published in Niederngasse Journal

Art by Gustaf Klimpt

*My computer is still away, so I'm posting some things from my website that I had on my husband's computer before I passed it to him a couple of years ago.

6 comments:

Michael Parker said...

Wonderful poem, Pris.

Pris said...

Thanks, Michael.

Antonia said...

Nice Poem!

Pris said...

Thanks, Antonio..welcome to my blog.

Coloratura said...

love this!

Ellen M Johns said...

Excellent as always. Sorry to hear you are without power.x