He texts me at 2 AM “williamsburg. trophy bar.” ...
for all the poets
I didn’t participate in 30/30 because forcing a poem for me is like taking a shit with my ass taped shut, It won’t come out. Perhaps I am not a poet Perhaps I am somewhat of a fraud I just come home and throw up whatever tasted good that day Hedonist: a person whose life is devoted to the pursuit of pleasure and self-gratification. “What do I smell like?” she asks him His arm slowly...
But Seriously No one’s looking for their one...
dreams go into dreams
Its 1AM when I get home and all I feel is lonely I text him to come over and I know he will cause 2 days ago I denied him That’s how it works You say no twice and then you say yes And next thing you know they’re at your door And you’re frantically cleaning your room for a guest that doesn’t care about anything but getting you naked He comes in and he looks really hot and that’s all that...
I dreamt of you again We were in bed You were very young and fresh faced Like when I had met you Beautiful. There was a woman next to you who I understood to be me But still felt jealousy It was the me I want to be. Healthy. Happy. Beautiful. And I moved like a cat Etching into you. Head into shoulder Kneading. It was nice to know that somewhere we were playing out my happy ending ...
What Was It You Said About Love?
I was too busy noticing your scent from 10 feet away And how good those glasses made you look I couldn’t wait for the movie to be over to tell you goodbye To see that sad look in your eyes The look of “please stay with me tonight?” When we were half way in it, LOST I told you to stop I felt like I could. Control. Finally. And then you actually stopped. That’s when I knew we would...
My Mans Best Man Makes Me Feel Better
As I sitinfrontofaBOX I think of: the nice black lady that gave us tea through the pull up window and told me I was lucky the scent on your body from the hot San Antonio sun and the organic deodorant that didn’t do shit the way you asked the janitor for a lighter, like you had known this stranger all your life and when you took a picture of those old ladies at the museum, the way your voice...
The first thing you ever said to me was “Let’s move to NY.” Like saying hi. Like it was easy. Like I’d do anything you said anyways. I’m here. You forgot to follow. I don’t remember the moment I realized I felt it but I remember wanting you around. Like something I felt when it was missing. Like a subtle hunger. Like drinking tea when you want water. Your name became something of a...
Just Being Is OK
Why can’t I just be why do I have to be doing something? why do I have to be a profession or a passion or goal attaining or love making or friend faking or yoga or writing or acting or making money or not Or fighting or producing or selling or painting or depressed or happysmiling Or lonelycrying Or angrydrinking Or sadeating Why can’t I just be the nothing that I was born as In the...
Thinking Too Much
When I ask you to come over you calculate the point mile that is between us. I can sense you losing interest as google maps tells you its too far tonight I’ll fuck her tomorrow, you think. That’s what weekends are for, you think. When I’m in the area, you think. While I think, You’re a dark scene inside my head. You’re that fucking crease on my new book And my OCD flares And I think FUCK...
Thanks for All the Fun
Thanks for all the fun, he tells me. You were a lot of fun, he says. I really had a lot of fun with you, he texts me. He says, “We have fun together, don’t we?” That’s all I ever am is fun to all of you. Like beyond the bedsheets I don’t exist Like you can have your way with me and have your fun And I’ll take the afterfun and swallow that, too. Like a good, fun girl. FUCK YOU. I’m sick of...
The Idea of You
Back in Bushwick is where I wanted the idea of us to end But it lingered into every crevasse of my memory foam Took the shape of a daily obsession A reminder that does not rest An association that every moment stirs. The phone rings but it’s not quite the right person calling It never is. And I wonder why the you that I made up smiles wider And says sweet things I should of left that...
The Chinese Elevator, by Derrick Brown
Sometimes you can feel them in love somewhere else in the city and it is like having a phantom limb. He is staring at a bottle of pills big as a lamp. Brighter. He sighs a noise that comes in the sounds of ripped silks. He loves the steady drums of her headboard played by a stranger. It is the tempo and timbre of men slicing the earth with shovels. He loves knowing that she can’t last a...
Tripping over memories of passing lovers and soon to be forgotten moans and touches I tumble through assorted sheets. White sheets, striped sheets From clean (made) dirty sheets, To we don’t need sheets I keep stumbling over you. I left secrets in your cotton creases and those intimate folds that will not flatten tell so much Of time wasted and time spent searching for our pleasure keeps. ...
“ let it go - the smashed word broken open vow or the oath cracked length wise - let it go it was sworn to go let them go - the truthful liars and the false fair friends and the boths and neithers - you must let them go they were born to go let all go - the big small middling tall bigger really the biggest and all things - let all go dear so comes love ”—E. E. Cummings
The snow seems to come upwards from the ground and float into what was my face and is now a sheet of ice I start to wonder if I will ever feel “too hot” like I did in Texas I’m almost missing the feeling of sweat and Houston humidity What I’m really missing is the greens I’m missing trees and fields and that goes further than Texas, to my summer house in Moscow where there are no fences or...