Two Poems by Laura A. Warman



& we are talking about our
trip to LA and someone says
don’t go to Watts and someone
says it’s not Watts it’s the Mexicans
and I say that’s racist and he says
“I’m black” and I say “She’s Mexican”
and he lists the things customers
have told him that days that are
racist and I go to the bathroom and
sit in the stall and think about being
a cashier and seeing all these
people some people are racist
and she comes in the bathroom
and sits in the stall next to me
and she is weeping because C’s
son died today He was shot 16 times
and S comes in the bathroom
and prays “Dear God come be with us
and C and protect us” I begin
to cry but I don’t want to be seen
by the others so I wait in
the bathroom for hours pubis
exposed Some People Are Racist
but I am Not Racist Oh can I say that



Karen gives me a lot of good ideas for poems
says I should write poem rating EX Partners
based on how much writing material
they gave me this one is for you, Nate.
Nate, you made writing my book easy. You
made fucking something worth…
Book Called Taipei Book Called Just Kids
Book Called Vagina Sweatshirt Says
“United Church of the Flying Spaghetti
Monster” One sock One STD the line
“Literally cannot breathe when we fuck”
You were choking me box of latex free
condoms you bought your hands shaking
at the Rite-Aid on Forbes & Murray because
you almost got hit by a car outside you ask
for the latex free condoms behind the counter
& tell the cashier that you are not shaking
because you are afraid of sex you are shaking
because you almost got hit by a car. You tell
me this story and say, “Would you like to have
sex in The Future?” Yes, I would like to have sex
in The Future. New strategy before break-up:
liquidate assets. I need to remove all the names
from this poem. Nate only made me feel bad
about eating quinoa. Nate made me stop
feminism for the hour. It is snowing and
I am walking through the parking lot of
the Whole Foods Market. I look up and
see a lady whose car has broken down Look
away. Is she going to ask me to jump her car
because we are both wearing plaid jackets?
Please Don’t Ask Me To Jump Your Car
i like u i am a fan of u How is she gonna
wake up and not love me no more
Why are you standing there with your
face all screwed up? I ordered the jerk
and she says “You are what you eat”.
We broke up over coffee We broke up
over pepperoni. We broke up because the
slurpee machine at the Get Go was broken
If I can’t have a slurpee I can’t have you either
The closest I get to sex now is my fingers
on the screen of my iPhone. He broke
up with me via text message. I need to
talk. I need to talk. I want to see you.
I am seeing too much of you. It was your
birthday and the thought of fucking you
made me bored. But, I couldn’t break
up with you on your Birthday or on Christmas
so I waited seven days. Last lover, yes you
you gave me this. Fear of big dicks fear of
small dicks fear of flaccid dicks. Fear of
being too wet fear of not being wet enough.
Teenager Stabs Mother, Slices Off His Penis
While High on Meow Meow Fear of breaking
dick fear of ripping labia fear of daggering
fear of post-coitus fear of being seen in the light
Fear of dry fear of Cat got your tongue


Poems first published in How Much Does It Cost? by Laura A. Warman, 2013

Cover image by Calvin Fleming

About the Author:

Laura A. Warman is a poet and performance artist based in Pittsburgh, PA. She is the author of How Much Does It Cost? published by Cars Are Real Press. She runs the Warman Jitney car service, is a member of DAD PRANKS art collective, and publishes Warman Monthly.