This guy whose name is Tohonee
is at the microphone reading his poems. The first one is from the woman's
perspective about this guy in an arcade who starts out playing video games
and ends up raping a girl in the back room, but Tohonee explains the rape
like a gruesome video game adventure. Tohonee understands the impact of
video games on the post-modern male. On top of that, he exudes a men's-movement-sensitivity
to speak from a woman's mind.
I order a glass of wine in between the poems so I'm buzzed enough to approach
this god-of-all-liberated-males after the reading.
He makes an announcement that all the proceeds from his newest book will
go toward a battered women's shelter. Then he reads more poems about battering
After he reads, the audience swarms over him. I stay in my seat. I try to
remember what Andrea Dworkin wrote about Henry Miller's stories but nothing
applicable comes to mind.
By the time the crowd has disintegrated, I have some things to says to Tohonee,
so I walk up to him. "You act like a fucking savior of all women,"
I tell him. "Your poems are such a crock." He looks at me. "I
see you getting a hard-on while you read --I know these are your fantasies."
"So?" he says.
I realize I'm blushing, and Tohonee is smiling. The silence is on the brink
of awkwardness, and because he's an asshole, he's not helping.
He strokes my cheek, which is audacious of him, but it feels good. There's
something erotic about a tender touch from a violent man.
I go home with him.
We drive in his car and say nothing to each other the whole way there. I'm
nervous and giddy, and excited with the thrill of not knowing what will
In his apartment he makes us drinks and then pushes me against the wall
with a kiss. "So you want to act out fantasies," he says.
Even though it's not a question, I answer, "Yes."
"You sure?" he asks, with a very serious look in his eyes.
"Yeah," I say. But he's looking at me like one of the characters
in his poems, or one of the characters in my fantasies, and he looks like
he could kill me. "No cuts or burns," I say. "I want this
to be over in one night. I don't want to be in the hospital or anything."
"Oh," he says, "So you want to be in charge? Then you better
stick to your own fantasies and I'll drive you home."
Doll | The Magic Kingdom
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