Here are some poems, I guess.

I guess I should say that these are all meant to be performed... I dunno if that's going to work for a publication, but you guys can debate that if you want. I don't do this stuff academically like I do visual art. I'm uneducated as a writer, you could say.

This first one is one that a friend asked me to perform at a show he was hosting at the Shadow. He said, "Olga, write a sexy poem." Which is really, really hard, it turns out.

*

Spread out on the bedspread, a hot summer night raging inside

And your words from that morning wound round me like coiling snakes

To make my chest ache

I rolled around in the sound of the click at the end of the tape

Before beckoning, are you awake?

Tossing I tangle myself into tiny knots, tensed sinews just begging for the pressure

Of fingers to work out the frayed have and have nots

Vision blurring at the touch of a wake up,

It’s three in the morning in smeared make up

I was all made up when I made up my mind to take you up on your words

I’m a flirt, I dance on the ends of your nerves and sway to your swerve

It’s your swagger that makes me weak in the knees and makes me think of the

Birds and the bees

And trust me, it’s more than a sneeze to invite you home with me

Although all I can do is all that I mean

Don’t think me mean to resist you at first, I’d much rather surrender

You’d think you upended me, down with my ship and the crew

The logic and reasoning I once knew muted until it’s blue in the face

Limbs tangled like seaweed in siren song

You start drowning inside me

Ask me if that was my plan all along

And I’ll say Maybe… Maybe not

Let me tangle you up, let me undo your knots

Let me help you forget any sad unforgotten

Forgive and forgot

Lose yourself in the music of our music-making

Infuse yourself in the muse of half-awakening

Cos it’s three in the morning and I wake up starving

I crave skin upon skin,

Open your mouth, let the water in

Let the cries out, we move from mono to stereo

Stares turn to eyes shut tight, keep out the light

From the streetlight, take in the night through your pores

Take in the movement in unison, the touch that could move you

To shake, and then quiver, and come nearly to breaking and—

God, what a move from sleeping to waking.