viernes, 16 de junio de 2017

Canada Goose, CR VocalesV

Grace Cob

Who am I but a shadow
identified by 300 mg of
quelque chose
a sleeping goose, yelling I was here, I was here
and flying away, yet again,
because it is always winter wherever I go
at any time of the year.
I exited my story, in the same way I entered it:
strangling myself, poisoning my lips, jumping from strangers’ windows.

What does it mean to care?
Beside looking at your bleeding wound
and feel disgusted.

Someone hit a squirrel on the road today,
while I walked to send some mail
near Ontario Lake,
- do not ever take me seriously with directions -
The squirrel died, and I was left in total angst by her side
I took her with my bare hands while chanting daimoku
she was all disfiguration and shallowness,
it was the first time I felt so exposed to the real meaning of guts.
Her nose was yet intact.

Just allow me to die like her someday.
I should not write such dark things.

For a while I’ve been afraid of writing poems,
since they always tend to repeat themselves in real life
with such an unimaginable force,
that I end up praying to old gods for mercy,
what a key variation to my new suburban life.

Down in Massachusetts a girl named Michelle has been convicted
for encouraging her mentally ill boyfriend to kill himself,
mesmerized I watched the news, what did she feel?
After ordering him to get back in his truck
that was parked at a Kmart,
and commanded him to turn on the gas
and wait for death to come.
What did she feel once her last message received no answer?

Crazy millennials,
I’m a millennial and yes,
we are all crazy.

CR VocalesV

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