Bad Thoughts

Lisa is older now
She is fifteen
She hangs out with a boy
A boy with a sweaty face
And a nervous smile

She looks like Mandy
When I first met Mandy
Aeons ago
In this bad world
A perfect beauty
In a perfect ugliness

She uses Mandy’s shower now
I do not know why
But I do not complain
Neither do I condone
Nor condemn
I do the best thing
I watch

She spends time in there
Soaping, sponging,
Douching, dousing,
Rubbing, rinsing,
Drying, dressing,
Praising, appraising,
Et cetera, et cetera

The gurgle of water
Down the drain
Is like the sweet sound
Of wet sex
With a horny lover

She is ripe
And untouched
Like a mellow fruit high
Up where you can’t reach,
Beckoning, teasing,
Mocking, baiting,
The fomenter of cruel
Desire and dangerous
Longing
And bad thoughts

Water gleams on her
Delicately firm breasts
Diamond droplets
On a flawless surface
Over her belly
The sunken navel
Then her rich pubes
Unshaven still
Dark and glorious
A mat of glittering dews

I cannot touch this
For I touched Mandy
I am forbidden
Everything forbids me
All manner of things
Forbid me
It’s a forbidden passion

But the boy with
The sweaty face and
The nervous smile
Can touch her
He contaminates her
Supreme lips
With his greasy ones
He poisons her
Impeccable face
With his rank sweat
And I hate him for it
What right has he?

Even Mandy
Would have hated him
Mandy!
I miss Mandy
In a bad world
Even the perfect is imperfect
I think of Mandy
And I remember
Whispered screams
On a mouthless night,
Suppressed tears,
Choked breath,
Distorted face,
And a wicked blade
Grinning gleamingly
On a pale moonshine,
Slashing, slashing,
Slashing

Cops at my door
In the morning
We found her body
You must come with us to ID it
We’re sorry, sir, but we think
She had a lover
He’s under arrest
As we speak
He’s a suspect

But in the dark
Of my room
I smell her lover’s
Semen on her
Last breath
I see her cheating blood
On the unforgiving tongue
Of my wicked blade

Lisa looks like Mandy
Even her buttocks
Her naked buttocks
Round and ripe
And rich
Wet when she showers
Alluring
Erotic
Voluptuous

Her soft triangle flesh
When water runs over it
Emits a purity rare
Succulent, salubrious,
Sublime,
A magnetic power
An ethereal potency
Over my tortured soul
It is a spiritual possession,
Her soft triangle flesh,
A god
A goddess

And I am engrossed,
Watching,
Peeping,
When there comes a tapping
As of someone rapping
Rapping at my living room
Door
I know
It is the Sweaty Face
The Nervous Smile
The Greasy Lips
I am furious, outraged
As when Mandy admitted
She loved another man

He sees my face
And starts
He stutters
Mr. Gorgon . . . ha . . . ha . . . hi
Is Lisa . . .?
I shoot him before
He can finish
I blast his sweaty face to shreds
His brain splatters my wall
It looks like vomited pizza

Lisa is still in the shower
When I return to my
Hidden spot
From where I peep at her
But I can’t just watch anymore
My heart palpitates
My penis pulses
My body burns
All are fierce like evil wounds
I must go to her
I must

She sees me
And gasps
And quails
And staggers
Dad! she utters
Dad! she cries
I am naked
Stark naked
Her frightened eyes
Waver in horror
From the gun in my hand
To the angry erection
Between my legs
Dad! she screams in panic
But no more peeping
No more unfulfilled longing