Three Poems / by Soeun Seo

Your Parents Are Doing Well in Our Establishment Poems


Popping Bertha’s Percocets

It’s Friday, Friday,
gotta get down on Friday,
to Netherview Nursing Home.
Bertha’s all about sharing;
“You sexy 60’s commy,”
I whisper to her and gulp,
down on her opium pearl.
It’s sweeter than a strap-on,
her saggy vulva wraps me
like the licks of my favorite dog.
On her bruised peach thighs
she knits my hair,
she asks, “can you feel
the flower power, child?”
-“Yes! Yes I can!
I vow at this moment
forever to be your
urinary bag.” My voice spills
on the neat linoleum floor, 
“Your smell of preservatives
quench my mouth, O, Mama.”






Earl’s Gigantic Bong

Earl has a classy bong,
long, thick and black, 
jammed on his respirator. 
A couple rounds of bingo
and a wipe-down with no-rinse
washcloths will get you where you want; 
he’ll let you kiss it, tongue it. 
Nut cancer gets you
the best kind of pot
because sex is ripped
away from you like a stillborn, 
leaving you powerless. 
Even the representatives of Ohio
unite for this noble cause. 
So you see, when Earl lets you suck
on his big, dark bong, 
you should think it an honor
and get friendly. Feel that
white, creamy smoke
fill you with Earl’s new source
of power that makes the young
volunteers scream: “O Papa!”






Drew’s Robotrip Ticket

Children must never be
laughed at. So let us drink
Drew’s cold syrup, and cramp
on Bertha’s wheelchair
all together, bearing the boy’s
boiled-egg body
like birds entangled on a nest.
Uh, nurses? We’re doing something.
Earl’s turntable can spin
a vinyl Cream and rock us
to the beat of the heart
monitor. Pole dance to
Clapton on the handrail and embrace
the waves of sticky purple
Nyquil lubricating Drew’s
manhood. We will teach you
about wet dreams, O Child.






Soeun Seo is a poet and fiction writer, currently lost in Seoul, though she has been lost in other places before. With the poet Jake Levine, she translates the wildly sexy Korean poet Kim Yi Deum.