singpowrimo
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on the elevator she steps aside, lets others into the gantries first. she hasn’t seen a mirror in years: in the dark, she feels about her shape, is satisfied with being. what was her name? she knew it was a saint’s. it just had to be. in the dark she swallows even without being asked.
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I. I was the first, one of the first. But you know first one’s a fool. Who’s gonna get in line? First one to go, first one to fight the way. We lived in the throat of death every day. Where you’re criminal because of who you are. “These people ain’t gonna do nothing for
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first, to visit, you have to be lost. second, there will be no guide, so open your eyes. the lake before you is just a diversion. watch out for the lonely boat, beating itself against the shore. check below the seat. there, you shall find an oar and or a map. it doesn’t matter. row
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Holes 1. When the holes started popping up so did the epiphanies. Men and women rushing to the mountain, eager to find where they fit. When it showed up on the telly I wanted to switch it off – but there I was, rewinding and rewinding the footage, trying to see if anyone I knew
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Once, you asked me what I would want for myself; I answered as you would have wanted, i.e. mark of a man, a six-pack, job that pays good money etc. 5Cs and COE, a happy family. Another time you asked me ridiculous koans: what is the sound of two butts farting. If a NSman shits
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pause for thought – one mistake begets another. A treatise on compulsive lying: how one wears long sleeves even in summer, how one nods along to the rhythmic ritual of “yes, I am fine.” No. Break the glass – this is not just an emergency this is real life. Real in the sense that there
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rap scallions pop corn jazz hands gloves worn heat higher pounding meat tender riser sinful treat dapper diner whisky dandy reeses’ pieces risky candy caramel dripping sweet tripping salad tossing caesar dressing sunkissed tomato red cheek bare bodies rump steak —- spwm day 3
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First, patience. Second, patience – but to a reasonable degree. Patience, such that I may wait, without an inkling of what you were thinking. Maybe take a few centimetres off me, so the distance between us can shrink, by that inch which seems like a mile. Perhaps, fingers just a centimeter shorter, so that our
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If I could, I would give myself to some unknowing God, tribal chief, prostrate bone against blood – if it meant that all of you were safe forever. To be kind, this crushing sense of love – it permeates the skin, a henna tattoo. I feel its breath, pressing down on my back, a cape
ugly stage 