lot one

for fear of fragmentation

   I decided

   to tie myself to my roots.

instead of wandering alone on ‘deck’ or whatever

                       I find myself

          spilling shit on myself

mocking piety

hiding apathy

in choa chu kang.
.

currently

  a woman with

   hair styled a horse

   and a dress wild black

     returns

 a book home.

Does she wish to be free?

Does she know I

  a voyeur

     a pervert

         a creep

has recorded her into my words?

   Does she know

she will remain captive

    living

       in these words?

Does she need to be free?

.
And here I was

         having just read some Sa’at

 and books

   by some guy

whose name I forgot; all I know

is that he led a band

slammed somewhere in 2007

and that he was

                    very

                       very

                         good.

—–

1. lot one is a singporean shopping mall.

2. I am very, very tired.

Filed under: Original, Poetry

by

A member of Singapore-based writing collective /stop@BadEndRhymes ("/s@ber"), Valen dwells in the swamp of poetry. He has been published in various publications, including Anxious Poets Society, Eunoia Review and Quarterly Literary Review Singapore. He has performed his work at the Arts House, the Singapore Art Museum, and in various dingy bars.

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