Afterschool Special

By Arielle Greenberg

I really want you the dad I’m babysitting for

to fuck me   or rather to want to

bringing me home in your turquoise sports car

babysitting dad will you get me in trouble

give me a story I can tell   an afterschool special

will you ruin me   or at least want to

I am good   this is a problem

I don’t ever stick my finger into my throat

I don’t smoke   I get A’s   I cheat a little

on tests here and there   I’m supergood

with your kids   help them pick up the

transformers and I didn’t watch your porn

though I took it out from the back

of the faux-wood entertainment center

put it carefully back   drank two sips

of the red wine in the fridge then brushed

my teeth with your crest on my finger

there is nothing special about me

my goodness makes me plain and I don’t

even know the size of my body

or what space it’d fit into under what table

part of me burns and part of me clicks

I have sex in my jeans tightly   I want you

to ruin me though I’m not sure I’m able

to be ruined and I’m not attracted to you

I’m just so in the crotch of what I want

Arielle Greenberg is co-author of Home/Birth: A Poemic, author of My Kafka Century, Given, and co-editor of three anthologies, including Gurlesque. She lives in Maine and teaches out of her home, in the Maine community, and in the Oregon State University-Cascades low residency MFA. She also writes a column on contemporary poetics for the American Poetry Review.