April 2016
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start them young. begin by digging a hole and standing in it. fill in the earth to waist level. palms facing the skies, absorb the energies of birds for hours. open mouths give their water back to the earth. I am a boy trying to be a tree, spinning with the planet, rolling past hours
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It is the waking step you miss dreaming. The gap between the train and platform, just big enough for your thigh. An empty desk in class with flowers atop, like a crown. What you find when you spread her legs, look in her eyes. The end of pages in a book. When your teeth eat
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your footsteps form a steady beat, like a god-be-damned EDM bass; inhaling and exhaling in a trance, hoo ha, hoo ha; the fucking sun needs to chill the fuck out; wow your sports bra is as brazen as my nipples; an ear-bud dangles like a tendril; now your shoe-laces are coming loose but stopping only
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We were the first and third person to the scene of the crime. This butchering of a language, the breaking of an unbroken word. We were the kamikaze pilots in the jets and the sailors on the ship: the single and the plural, the loop of has, has-not and has-been. Point is at least one
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We are stamping each other to death in a furtive Cha-Cha. We will lock ourselves in birdcages but shout at those who sing. We eat our meals in a feedback loop and soon the man in the tasseled fez has taken our job. It’s ok because We Are Majulah; we are onwards we are progression
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Can we exist within and without each other? Is that what you seek to test? No, I am not dodging the question. I’m just skipping it for now – an exam technique. Solve what you can, come back later. No, that’s no metaphor for us. No, you won’t get points for fancy language. Frame it
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For singpowrimo prompt 12
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Formatting is weird on mobile, I’ll change this to text when I go home.
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Love is that brute that killed Caesar, that unfaithful disciple, that Buddhist, Shi Ming Yi, caught for conspiracy: a liar, a cheat – human. (cont.) It is the counting of flower-petals, the Tinder chats, the Grindr photos: words spoken from one spouse to another and another other. Love: it is the sore lack of space
ugly stage 