Skip to main content
Poets.org

mobileMenu

  • Poems
  • Poets
  • Poem-a-Day
  • National Poetry Month
  • Materials for Teachers
  • Literary Seminars
  • American Poets Magazine

Main navigation

  • Poets.org
  • Academy of American Poets
  • National Poetry Month
  • American Poets Magazine

User account menu

  • Log in
  • Membership
  • Donate
Donate
Poets.org

2020 Anne Newman Sutton Weeks Prize

Page submenu block

  • find poems
  • find poets
  • poem-a-day
  • literary seminars
  • materials for teachers
  • poetry near you

Bitch

by Marilyn Melissa Salguero

People chew on words like dogs. Work at them until their teeth crack until whatever they bite bows down grinds into nothing but a hot, sticky exhale that once had a name until it becomes raw hides back in the throat. I say Spit it out and yes, I am prying here. Reaching out a hand towards a snapping thing that is all gnashing teeth and backwards smile and I offer a taste of my blood The boy looks at me and swallows furrows his brow and he hesitates. See, I am asking the boy who does not know me to open up unhinge his jaw and place the bones from everybody he took from and lay it at my feet I demand all of the words that never escaped past the porcelain border lining his gums all the raw and ripped up remains of a live thing turned leather suffocating & still dripping a man gl ed heartbeat off of his tongue. He likes the taste of blood, I think.Likes the way he can bare his teeth and make everyone else think themselves a skeleton a meal stuck between his mercy likes how all his howling echoes in agreement off the concrete I expect that the bark will not be worse than the bite if I ask for it So, I ask for it. Ask him to give again and he calls me a Bitch. it falls onto the floor between us & I make him look at it, see fear in his eyes when he remembers all the times he too was a body between someone else’s mouth how easily teeth sink break both our skins & he remembers that he too is a bleeding thing he apologizes, places himself in the palm of my hand and I call him a Good Boy. See, who else but a bitch can teach a mad dog how to heel?



*To read this poem in its intended format, please view from a desktop. 





back to University & College Poetry Prizes

Newsletter Sign Up

Support Us

  • Become a Member
  • Donate Now
  • Get Involved
  • Make a Bequest
  • Advertise with Us

Follow Us

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • SoundCloud
  • YouTube
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest

Footer

  • poets.org

    • Find Poems
    • Find Poets
    • Poetry Near You
    • Jobs for Poets
    • Literary Seminars
    • Privacy Policy
    • Press Center
    • Advertise

  • academy of american poets

    • About Us
    • Programs
    • Prizes
    • First Book Award
    • James Laughlin Award
    • Ambroggio Prize
    • Chancellors
    • Staff

  • national poetry month

    • Poetry & the Creative Mind
    • Dear Poet Project
    • Poster
    • 30 Ways to Celebrate
    • Sponsorship

  • american poets

    • Books Noted
    • Essays
    • Advertise
© Academy of American Poets, 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038
poets .org