Four Poems
shy watson
sour
i wanted
in the way
that want follows
bedraggled
a half moon
of bites
it starts
like this
slowly
rara saw
FIRE FIRE
in my eyes
hard to describe
to you who
no longer
sour
i wanted
in the way
that want follows
bedraggled
a half moon
of bites
it starts
like this
slowly
rara saw
FIRE FIRE
in my eyes
hard to describe
to you who
no longer
On Shaving my Legs for the First Time
the offending hairs that sprout from dark skin
like unwelcome ants that toil through the night
hairs that signal virility on my father’s chin
draw taunts
an immigrant love letter
this is a love letter
to jasmine rice and soy sauce in the ethnic aisle to the crisp
melting of duck skin in my mouth you taste the
I WRITE PANIC
into the locked kitchen
cabinet, china chipped
& sticky. i write
myself into a bottle
of vodka, sloshing
in waves of bitter
padded tongue.
i write the morning
green &
words to describe love
saw a pretty plant through a store window
picked out a different one instead
that
One night of nothing
When the languorous motion of bats and owls overthrows the scorching August air
making a party only takes three
One night of nothing
heavy on an empty
for M
i.
In the beginning there was only the girl
and the ocean. Someone was telling a story;
in the story a girl’s friend died, an accident,
so she walked into the sea, breathed
Many days I realize my dreams are fiction half way through.
its stagnant swollen limbs...
"Strange," "Rare Books," "New Suit," and "The Killer"
in this one you’re a six foot / two hundred pound prize
Most people prefer the Vulcan statue...
one from the spit where I watched them...
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!