My Husband Forced Me to Have Sex with Our Parakeet

Nothing to say about food this week, so I thought I'd scrape the bottom of the barrel.

This is a real oldie. I wrote this in the summer of 1977, when I was 21. I remember the circumstances precisely. I was on the ferry from Bar Harbor to Nova Scotia and I saw a newsstand full of True Confessions-type magazines. After taking note of a number of the article titles I got the inspiration for my own True Confessions-type poem. I sat down at a table in the snack bar and knocked it out in one take. I'm pretty sure it was never published anywhere, but I used to perform it with Sonorexia, to a twangy country guitar accompaniment by Elliott Sharp. I've been able to recall this from memory.


My Husband Forced Me To Have Sex With Our Parakeet

My husband forced me to have sex with our parakeet
Last Friday night.

It was gettin' late,
He'd been drinkin' beer all night,
And he says to me,
"Honey, I want you to fuck the parakeet."

And I says to him,
"Please, Bobby, don't make me do it."
And he says,
"You're gonna do it!"

So we did it:
Me and the parakeet,
While Bobby stood by and watched.

I didn't like it very much,
And the bird was hurtin' me a lot,
And I was feelin' real bad,
Until the parakeet says to me:
"Honey, I love ya."

Just like Bobby used to.