This January I had a residency in Desperate Literature, a bookshop in Madrid. I did a reading and produced a little book with some of my poems, including the ones below. Send me an email if you would like a copy, or stop in at the shop if you are in Madrid.
Obvious Shapes
As well as the triangle
(stabbing)
I now have
a rectangle
on my forehead
red and stretching
towards my ears.
In this way I
inch towards children,
“Don’t talk to us.”
they can see it and
hear the grinding
(triangle)
in my chest.
Soon, my stomach grows a circle and
handsome men avoid me on the street.
Michael Cera is my celeb crush
Michael Cera is my celeb crush
du jour
I go to bed with him
around my head
protecting me
fuzzily
from all evil
especially terrorism
and then
counter terrorism
and then
late capitalism
in general I dream of his
unsure qualities and
wake up calm
and thirsty.
This is what happens when
my non-Michael Cera friends aren’t here
I Google
Michael Cera hot
Michael Cera girlfriend?
Michael Cera asshole?
Michael Cera sex scenes
which soak my algorithms in
honey haired
inexperienced visions of
Michael Cera
help.
Space
Between you and me there’s
- the time from when I first got here and felt afraid until now when I can say à
plus.- my dream about the feathered man and having sex with John (which of course I wouldn’t tell you about, but would think about with you in shot)
- you not drinking, not eating, and swimming in unknown shorts.
(I think of you at the pool and can’t quite believe that I’m allowed to touch yours or anyone’s chest)
