JUICE: Poetry, Art, Fiction, Fantasy and True Stories

Erica Jong:
“If sex and creativity are seen as subversive activities, it’s because they lead to the knowledge that you own you  own body and that’s the most revolutionary insight of all.”

JUICE Adult Poetry


oNCE a week

we make our weekly trek
into town to buy food to
pick up mail to read the local
paper read about a new pool hall
with dollar pitchers
decide to check it out

didn't eat all day
but he drank two pitchers
& beat me four out of five
games which is unusual
we make big bets: clean the
toilet, wash the dishes for
the next three nights, roll all
the dope into joints, shit work
better than betting money

we got his xmas gift from his
mother in the mail
a thin coat we take to penny's
& get cash instead
we buy steak a bottle of good
tequila we'll eat good tonight

the roads are icy when we start
for home he insists on driving
cause i drive too fast
but god i'd swear he's too drunk
he drives
& starts to reminesce about a buddy
that got killed flying a helicopter
in vietnam
then wonders what made him think
of that

we get home he staggers to the
bedroom & crashes
i fix dinner call when it's ready
he says "hmmmmm?" with one eye
almost open
half an hour later cold steak
he staggers to the table
i warm it up he says he doesn't
want it he says it's probably
tough as shoe leather i give it to

him any way he eats it
swearing the whole time
he staggers crashing to the kitchen
to get salt when it was right in front
of him

i think i'm glad we only
go into town once a week as
i start to clean the toilet.

NILA NorthSun
northSun was born in Schurz, Nevada. Her poetry has been published in Callaloo in the special feature NEW EXPRESSIONS OF NATIVE AMERICA, Vol. 17, No. 1, Winter 1994. northSun lives in Fallon, Nevada.


sOME myths

you don't get the urge
often enough
she says
to do it.

maybe not.

once driving home
she was
i was too drunk

i pulled her pants
off & ate
her while she
drove on &

when we got there
we fucked
on the couch until

no more
she said
i'm too sore
i used to think you
weren't supposed to be able
to get it up
when you're drunk.

one of the myths about drinking.

other times
i think about it
but don't
say anything because

she's in the bathroom
sepia-toning her
prints while i sit
out here
with a hardon

writing these words
i used to think you
weren't supposed to show
anyone until
you had a perfect print.

one of the myths about poetry.

i get the urge
often enough
but the right one
at the right time

maybe not.





DEAR Ms.-------

that slit
between your legs
is pink
and I know the layout
when it's warm, wet
and has a clit swollen with blood
fleshy pleasure
between your legs.

and I know when you're cold
dry and
the nerves are vulnerable.
your nipples shrivel your eyes moisten
the look is cold...
from the inside
concentration on a fire
out of view
from analyzing eyes...

your indifferent cunt
your bearded mouth
speaks of friends
shy in neutrality
an organ of utility
and function
your nipples are not
swollen or shrunken
with pleasure or pain

you are more than your brain.

s. roach



I SUN on the beach
amongst the unclothed males
of no interest
as they parade out
near the surf
in twos
throwing their frisbees
flexing their muscles
while others
admire the
exhibition of
limp hanging
and nice tight

Judy Brekke