Wisconsin Sexy, by Carrie Conners

You should see the underwear I’ve got on. They’re so

beige, and ankle length with a waffle pattern.

That’s right, baby, long johns.

Does that make you hot? Yeah? Then please

let me press up against you.

It’s -20˚ before wind chill,

I haven’t felt my toes since Tuesday.

 

I folded my long johns down

so they wouldn’t show when I bent over to shoot pool

in my low-rise jeans (it’s 2003, okay?),

tried to fold neatly so I wouldn’t look lumpy.

Unless you’re into that. If so, then oh I’m so

lumpy, babe, lumpier than your Aunt Bea’s

mashed potatoes. Just please zip me up inside

your Northface jacket. Uhhhnnn... 

 

What’s that? You like my pouty mouth?

The cold must’ve numbed my lips slack

like I’ve been shot up with Novocaine.

If it makes my mouth look like what’s-her-name

from that Chris Isaak video, I’ll take it.

We can go down to the frozen lake and run

around on the beach like they did. I’ll strip

down to my long johns, which are kinda

like her men’s tightey whiteys, but I’m not

taking my top off like she did.

Can’t risk nipple frostbite. But you can

rub snow against my Gore-tex parka,

the way Chris did with sand against

her bare back, pretend that I’m a Danish model

instead of a broke grad student suffering

her first Wisconsin winter, pretend

that this is so, so hot, not a frozen hellscape.

 

But all that sounds exhausting. The cold sapped

my energy. I’m too tired for wicked games. Instead,

I’ll down a shot of whiskey for the road,

scream into my muffler as I trudge

the eleven blocks home, wind in my face.

Turn on the space heater, fall asleep with my clothes on,

melting snow dripping off my boots,

dream myself a piece of bread in a toaster oven.

 


Carrie Conners, originally from West Virginia, lives in Queens, New York and is an English professor at LaGuardia Community College-CUNY. Her first poetry collection, Luscious Struggle (BrickHouse Books, 2019), was a 2020 Paterson Poetry Prize Finalist. Her second collection, Species of Least Concern, was published by Main Street Rag in 2022. Her poetry has appeared in Bodega, Kestrel, Split Rock Review, RHINO, and Killing the Buddha, among others. She is also the author of the book, Laugh Lines: Humor, Genre, and Political Critique in Late Twentieth-Century American Poetry (University Press of Mississippi, 2022).

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