Tag: amwriting

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A Fairy Tale

One of our in-class poetry prompts was to take a translated poem and translate it in our own way. I chose Salma Khadra Jayyusi’s A Tale. I have no father-in-lawI’m sure he existsHe sleeps, fucks my mother-in-law(Hopefully she’s a nice lady and will treat me well)He showers, and is a good Christian. A good Christian…

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Masque

You buy clothes you never wearTo impress people who don’t careYou can’t speak in front of crowdsYou should get your head checkedYou have blisters on your heelsFrom shoes that refuse to be broken inYou wear makeup to even out your tanCertainly not to impress a manYour mirror reflection of selfDoesn’t match the one insideYou sing…

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Hospital Bench

Poems gush out my fingertipsWritten carefully in bloodTattooed on my skinThe original sinSapphire blueCrimson redFetch me a napkinSharpen the quillPumice the momentsLovely bops of clarity’Cause nothing elsein this damn worldmakes a lick of sense.

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Harmony Palatial

Pink colored chlorophyllSunshine blue markerConcrete easelAnother one Eurydice walkaboutUnder the jazz promenadeBeatrice says helloMeasure for measure A forest lies honestlyMirrors seek wrinklesPresidential silenceElephantine stretch

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Sentimental x Unsentimental

The stars in the skiesDripped into your eyesLike the beautiful onesHold you when you’re done. I’m in this for loveNot procreationFallen angels, righteous sinsRaptured in misdirection. Baby it’s youIt’s always been youFrom the moment I breathedYou in like a fogTrip me in the darkAnd into your arms. And another onePound me like a drumBrush the…

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twenty-four

twenty four hours in a daytwenty four years since riots serenaded the streets of L.A.that powder keg of corruptionsafety of unreality violatedblue and red combinedmade purple, unitedagainst the tyrannyof the 5-0 we lived six hours awayworking class neighborhoodsouthside ModestoI can see your face cringeall the way over herewhen I tell people where I lived. never…

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hayley atwell as matilda archer

Miracle & Magician

“I didn’t realize the weather would be quite this oppressive, darling,” the well-dressed lady said to the man beside her in the carriage. She waved a gloved hand in front of her face, trying to excite the dull air into breathable oxygen. “I think I left my fan in my trunk. Oh goodness, it’s positively…

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