Three Poems
John B. Oldenborg
What’s your name? Like an oak
I want to carve a heart
into our washing machine.
What’s your name? Like an oak
I want to carve a heart
into our washing machine.
as all my lovers
fly out of my chest
Mysterious beauty spot the farra on cheek.
It would clog up the bag and you would throw the whole thing into the sea
There’s no amount of $$$ you could offer me
To shut my mouth
Loud noises bother me. Crunching on chips. What did they do five hundred years ago when they didn’t have chips? They ate grapes. Quietly.
i allow myself to feel joy listening to Anita Baker Same Ol Love and
when im prescient of the joy i rock a lil harder.
Dexedrine,
obedient beauty,
a low-calorie
alternative
for excess.
My boy on the boulevard bubbling.
Triple wick rip tide in my mind.
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
"[Her Lesser Work] is a collection of mordant and formally inventive stories circling themes of, let’s say, desire and escape within repressive structures."
-Walker Caplan, Literary Hub