The Background Radiation of My Non-existent Sex Life

Stephanie Marrie

I look up Mom’s posters
And see my dream cities–
Roma and Paris.
Which of these two is the true city of love?
Maybe Roma, cuz backwards it’s Amor

Suddenly 6:10 p.m. snaps me out of it.
I’ve got to catch dinner,
but the Hot Wall tempts me.

Sexy is just a naked bod, right?
Then why is the hottest pic
Just two people snogging?
The true definition of EROS

I wish I could be like them
though I’d feel very sore
I never even looked at a boy
So why have I devolved from adult
to hormonal Looney Tune?

right before I enter the cafeteria, I am repulsed by the sight of
Vagina Monologues

Haffner is strangely lacking today
baloney sags
spotted bananas
unsweet milk
My bod ain’t satisfied.

I may go to town,
Fuji Mountain’s soft white nipple beckons me so.
So do the star-crossed at Starbucks!
I would go to the Lusty Cup
But there is nothing lusty about it.
Just like Haffner.


Molly Fessler

they welcomed us to the city, so we took that as the sign, the divine right granted by, given to citizens of the world.
you are mine and i am yours.
we bought dates, ran through alleys, into spouts of streams of water that
cleaned the streets
lanes where figs blushed in the sun,
unloaded by worn hands on flat trays
we walked until our shoes yelled.
the oranges unpeeled each day,
do you remember, boarding the bus, tugging sand from socks and then
into tulips, gathering the folds of its cup around as silk as smooth as gold sparks
that flaked from the static of the radio.
the power, the pulse, when my hand takes yours to cross a bridge
over Bosporus or Jordan.
we swam through waves made by seas Black and Dead, cradled each other
as fevers rose when miles grew.
we came to the city and pulled the concert posters off the walls.
we came to the city and danced.