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January 15, 2014 | Poetry

3 Sad Sonnets

Brenna York

3 Sad Sonnets photo

One

Can’t write now would be too sad to read.
My celeb crushes get married or domestic.
I’m like a pair of dollar store sunglasses
look good but the fuckers snap!
If anyone, anywhere will watch Harmony Korine
with me. Don’t blog about it, let’s.

The weekends: when I don’t see your tail and I’m a 2
bdrm apartment w/o wifi. The fuck’s the code?
Okay, but McDonald’s does and Friedman does.
Everyone does. I could go through a list of everyone who does.
What would I have left but your number? Which I looked up
in the school’s directory but wouldn’t call out.

Yes, you can keep the book about cock, cooz, and sugar cereal.
I only regret not putting my period on the title page.

 

Two

Our friendship has bad customs.
In other words, we get to know me.

Now, to announce each other’s entry,
a casual embalming.
This molly gives our caking a halo.
So much I think we might operate a bakery.
I imagine a design plan on your ceiling
while suds comeuppins your bath.
Water drops from your hair when you hug me.

I wipe it off on a blanket and say,
“That’s a great way to get spanked.”

 

Three

I arrive cock-eyed
After sharing cabs with glue criers
Nether being there for me
Nether calling, e-t-c
Did not know if we were circumcised
Until you deleted cell pics
Sensitivity Lackey
A yearlong trial for free
Meant each other’s humdrum
Bouts on the guest bed
The life you told me to get
Keeps spraying confidants with acid
You said, I’d tell someone like you to Sit Down
I was already the splits 

 

image: Brenna York


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