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Three Poems

Three Poems

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I hid under her dress

to see the sun rolling along a lane of salt

that was brushed off the bodies of women

I was sent to make art of fire

in the kitchen

and bury my face inside the burned body hair

before dying in dust

I have something blowing up my mind now:

the moment of absence, which swiftly escapes

like a ring he offers, telling me time ain’t a real thing

I walk inside my own dream

do not age before I am taught to

 

Evocations

In the ombres chinoises overlooking my bed

a bird thrusts its chest throughout a thin stick

I will rise to the cross-beam

and dangle in the steam of your cruise that is leaving

when it comes around

 

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Next to a metal shed, my sister is walking under the water upside down.

I suck the sponge in, the moss beneath my face is crazy

and animates the most ridiculous dreams, where I am stuck on the wedding

for some other people

whose chilly crystal ballroom mutters I know not.

Death detours its way to me, and life like this is rather limiting

Both of them would not free me to screaming “cheers” with Jerry

though I wish it was

‘Pour it on me, at the center of the dance floor

Show me like a stone.’

Outside the window, the moon continues dropping pulleys to the factory

then it would not be entirely unlucky, if I am determined to look at you no more

until this mirror ends, and the mystery is split.

Tags: Poetry, culture