Vaticanal/"Amazons of Vaginal Resistance"

Oddly scrumptious writer Letizia Merello has written another peculiarly delicious article about my poetry, yay!

This article appears in an online magazine called Vaticanal and here is the link:


If interested, you need to download the magazine. Leti's piece appears on page 30.

Just so you know, some of the Vaticanal content happens to be semi-pornographic (in an artsy kind of way), so if you're not into that sort of thing, then you might not wanna click the link.

Also, the magazine's content is in Italian and so is Leti's piece. If you can't read Italian, but are interested in her article, an English version appears below.


"Ladies and gentlemen, the curtain rises on the massacre of the dignity of cunt. The last bulwark of resistance to today's aesthetic rules seems to have finally succumbed, my ladies, except for those of you who hide between their thighs something looking like a worn purse or a dressed-leather loafer. Will you, the amazons of vaginal resistance, be able to resist the temptation of flattering rejuvenation surgery?

Vagina d'autore

Le sue rosee labbra smerlate si schiudono, una varietà carnosa
di bocca di leone. Un trattamento insolito ma efficace è
l'uso del batticarne: la rende così deliziosamente insensibile,
è come legare quattro arti fantasma a quattro cavalli e intervenire
chirurgicamente, come l'applauso di un pubblico al lieve tremolìo di quei lobi.

"Cos'è, una gara fra anoressiche a chi mangia più torte?"
L'urlo viene da uno spettatore estremamente partecipe.
"Forza! Dentro!" e alla fine sventrano:
uno che traffica freneticamente in mezzo alle gambe,
l'altro che si dà da fare con la lobotomia.

È ridotta proprio male, ma presto i resti saranno soltanto dolci
petit-four. Carni nauseanti da salassare, quindi isolare.
Una volta ottenuto l'effetto puntura d'ape, quel nido di vespe furioso
dev'essere suturato. Tutto sta nel soddisfare quegli
scarabocchi rosa, quelle piccole ali inadatte al volo.

Designer Vagina

Her pink scalloped lips part, a meatier variety
of snapdragon. A strange but effective treatment
is meat tenderizer. Then she’s so deliciously numb,
it’s like tying phantom limbs to four horses & performing
surgery, as an audience applauds those delicately trembling lobes.

“What is this, a pie eating contest for anorexics?”
shouts one overzealous clapper from the crowd.
“Get in there! Giddyup!” and they tear in--
one furiously working between the legs;
one serving point on the lobotomy.

She’s a real mess, but soon every remnant will be sweet
petit fours. Cloying meat must be leeched, then cloistered.
After the bee-sting effect is achieved, her angry hornet nest
must be sewn shut. It’s all about pleasing
pink squiggles and tiny flightless wings.

Juliet Cook, poet, publisher and author of this poem, is used to rummage in troubled waters with irony and coquetterie, but never afraid to get her hands dirty. Her Designer Vaginas are partly inspired by the latest craze, that is to become highly-fuckable Barbies in all respects. The Designer Vaginas series poems, a poetic squirt in the face of advocates and supporters of this trend, show that, thank Satan, beauty can survive even during a surgical procedure that seeks to kill her with standardization. Would you like more of this? Other creatures, mutilated and caramelized, are shaking their legs and tentacles on