Viewing entries tagged

wet behind the ears

living very far away and having resigned herself to certain attributes

of my personality—which are mostly blamed on the poor

conditions of the countries I choose to live in

and/or my father’s side of the family’s genetic

predispositions, she finally instructs over the not so

small phone placed under the only plant

i can really keep alive—bamboo,

if you were wondering: “get it while you can…

your figure,

your brains,

your secretions,

—they all leave you.”

my mother advises, and the support becomes bakhtinian

grotesque in that instant.

i would like to bring this up to the poet women

whom i plan, cackle, dream, and dine with.

instead we like

to talk about how long we can last

until wet

or dry shampoo is in order.


whom are we challenging?

nothing lasts if it never fades

softest palms ever felt,

back of neck, cups around crevices

relieves all tension,

melts adamant anticipation


     [jibberish lingers longer than four letter stabs, disyllabic platitudes]


harshest insults snorted out,

(against clogged nostrils)

retaliation breeds in depths

once creased, held, caressed

and almost tamed


     [memory is heavy with pain; hazy of highs]


‘typical shit’ pulled over and through

endurance builds character,

exhausting abuse—

in the façade of seven,

ritual finds us,

devoid of passage


     [embedded weakness every week]