Madeleine Grossman


one day absence called me up & bought me a five course meal
& i let him hold my hand because that’s the polite
thing to do when absence calls you up & wines
& dines you & asks you to fuck his brains out
does absence even have brains does absence
put on deodorant every morning do you
think if i handcuffed him to the headboard
would he like it did you like it
tell me why you left him in your place
without even sending a complimentary fruit basket
at least absence has a bigger dick than you
& uses it so well that he is the only thing i feel inside me


potty training

i found you in a bush itching, you have my
permission to fold — lay down all your
cards except the Queens, Long Island
City leave those in my sheets &
be done with it. steep
yourself in parsley tea, here is an out
house, stop wasting your time
pretending i’ll blow you
away, go. write all your secrets & stick
them in a bottle, call me a puddle, call me
tomorrow, call the proctologist & tell him
you’re full of shit. if i wait any longer
my body clock will spring forward &
you’ll fall back, feet spilling over themselves.


Madeleine Grossman is originally from New Jersey and currently lives in Brooklyn.  She has been published in SOFTBLOW and The Kentucky Review.  She studied English, French, and Creative Writing at New York University and now works in the music industry.

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