1. allow me to alert you
do not make me
hate you,
but do not blame me
if i do
2. cancer
i am a clam;
if you open me,
you will have earned
my pearlheart,
whether you wanted it or not
3. stated
i was not invited
but then i was invited
and we faced the wintery cold
and shared each other
on the steps outside
and i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you i say
i love you
4. play these games with sincerity
i will put a little girl’s hair clip with a white and pink polka dot bow on it that we found on the ground in the park in your hair and say “you are beautiful.”
you will put a slightly disgruntled expression on your face like the kind you wore when you quietly told me to get out of your bed because i had laughed when you had told me about the time you were five and had punched your four year old sister in the face because she had contradicted you about which Power Ranger was the best because i thought it was a funny story of childlike misunderstanding before pulling the little girl’s hair clip with a white and pink polka dot bow on it out of your hair and say “stop it.”
5. gimme suga, suger!
at night,
in bed,
i feel your
absence sharply
and, searching
for you blindly,
I lay my belly
to the bed,
where your back
should be
but is not,
and this is bad
for my health
because
in the morning,
when i wake up,
there is acne
on my gut
from when gravity
pulled my hairy belly
into the mattress,
which clogs
my pores;
if you were here,
this wouldn’t
happen, so
come to bed
6. it’s hard to be mad after eating food
i feel
sort of sick
and sad,
kinda miserable
and lonely
but in an unrefined way
i feel weird and uncomfortable
around you
you make me conscious of
my temporal/spacial existence
there will come a time,
if you remain persistent,
when everyone will
scream your name and
wait in line to hear your words;
but that time, for me,
is not happening today
i don’t have an identity
my identity consists of concepts
that i like,
and thus i identify as those
concepts
your words
are to be taken
with a grain of
Kosher sea salt
all alone, in the park,
there was a dog
taking a shit
where was that dog’s owner?
||| | || | |||
dom schwab is currently moving to Chicago. He is a writer of poetry and prose, some of which appear on social media accounts:
Blogger: http://anxiouslollygagging.blogspot.com/
Tumblr: http://anxiouslollygagging.tumblr.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/domschwab
