Tag: poetry

So I told him “let me look into it”… and then I looked into it and I still have no idea!

Cardiovascular Center, 6:00PM, 3/11/2024

[son of absents] wedged between the post and the poles, black hair and emaciated letters askew. nyx shades her face out of shame. the ballot drops to the floor and deposits a list of names in the mud, puddles formed by the scars of the horses long asleep. the reflection casts empty against the sky, shrouded by percentages, gone but not gone enough. i point up and you put glasses on and something shifts. the voice in my head fades to black, drowning.

as if–

I only started wearing makeup in college so I kind of missed the middle school-high school experimenting phase…

Traverwood Library, 6:00PM, 3/17/2024

–the water would support the weight, even though we both know memory is the price to pay, ouroboros would not be so kind, an ever-consuming serpent chasing its tail, shrinking like a lasso in the wind, because the wind, like sand, penetrates the crevices of my conscience, crevices never cleaned and skin never washed, wasted on whispers like close your eyes, it will be okay, the mask is lifted and the sponge comes off and the smoke clears the air, a mirror in its wake, a brilliant light, blinding, suffocating, and i scream and turn away–

What do you mean you can feel the moon coming? Are you a werewolf?

Stamps Courtyard, 3:00PM, 4/8/2024

–and yet:

when i leave my shadow grows stronger, absorbing the darkness you left behind. weak of muscle and wide of belly, the sun lies stagnant. we only look for it when it disappears, i think. you fashioned a suit from the feathers of my pillow, flying too high on borrowed wings. the moon passes in mourning, threading the needle, as the wax melts and the brown turns to black, a fall from grace. too proud for light, your presence goes unnoticed under the [absence of sun].

Let’s do a practice run so you know you’re not wasting the good paper…

I don’t think I have the patience for that though.

Pierpont Commons Bonisteel Inbound, 3:00PM, 1/22/2024

walk into the deep end, clothes on, mind off. let the water wash over you. feel the gills split the side of your neck, the rush of oxygen in your veins. countercurrent exchange. i remember that from a textbook. the diffusion of pixels across gradients, pages bursting with color, paper airplanes in mind and motion. your smile transcends eras. i look up, out, on the breeze, ashes scattered on the wind. a kite blocks the sun for a moment–the child looks up with dinnerplate eyes at a diamond eclipse, ephemeral in every sense of the wor(l)d.

I hate walking between cars.

Why? Is it because they can’t see you?

Walgreens, 5:00PM, 2/22/2024

it’s a game we used to play when the branches were frozen and winter stretched beyond our imaginations. you would crunch your way into the forest and disappear with a cry of glee. i would follow your footsteps but they marched in circles and made me dizzy. you won every time–let’s play something else, this is too easy–until i discovered that you were climbing the trees instead of braving the snow. today i look at the cream-crusted treetops and pray for a shadow–groundhog or otherwise–even though i know that it is futile, that the feet of the lantern-bearer are permanently trapped in the dark.

I got paid a hundred dollars, and the instant I had it I blew it on clothes…

Exile Vintage, 5:00PM, 2/27/2024

a walking chiropractic, turning heads and cracking necks. balance the heels, skip the flannel, crunch the numbers. he picks out a suit and she grabs a sweater off the rack. the price tag bears the date of acquisition, a reminder of the shoulders who have shrugged past wear and the fingers that have picked at the hems. blueprints of humanity can be measured, like tree rings, by counting the colors and the tears and the cigarette burns on the sleeves. lived-in is good; the scarred fox foes not get skinned. you pull your sleeves down and pass the store and i crack my neck and catch my breath against the window. i wave to the mannequin, delirious, and the mannequin waves back.