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“Red Meat” by Staceyann Chin

I have given up meat
the way I have given up you
without enthusiasm

The flesh still pulls at me
and I am trying to refuse
because no one is ever the better
for acting against the urge of self preservation

My body is screaming
its mantra of enough is enough

We are less likely to kill each other
if we bleed in different zip codes
if we ration our intake of one another

Dying is sometimes faster
than the living
lessons have to be taught
lifetime after lifetime

some animals never learn
and so they return to the table as steak
not rare enough or over done
no one enjoys the stubborn ass of an animal
standing its ground out of habit

the time has come for us to move on
to pull something from this cycle of will contesting fate

So I am letting you go
we both know how the dried crust of our passion
pulled us this way and that
it matters not whether we were in love
or whether we often compromised with ground turkey
the jive is up
our cups are filled with new possibilities
other comic tragedies are yet to be conjured
let us push our injured carcasses toward healing
let us forsake this glut of obligatory feeling
threatening to leave us heavy and poisoned by our choices

1 week ago Notes (3)

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“I Am Someone’s Dream Husband” by Guillaume Morissette

I am someone’s dream husband.
I like to fail just to have something to look forward to, which is success.
my favorite relationships are ambiguous, unreciprocated or entirely fictional.
I love being retweeted by a stranger more than I love myself.
the trajectory of my life is a pendulum getting entangled in itself.
I regret every part of my body that’s external.
my hobbies include dying alone.
I believe that if there is no hope then there is no disappointment.
I am immune to cereal.
I like to delay gratification until gratification is no longer possible.
my penis has unrealistic, utopian views of other people.
I seriously need someone to explain my hair to me.
I am a catalog of anxiety issues.
I experience anxiety in non-anxiety situations.
I read in a book that anxiety is the median between desire and jouissance.
I will tell you what I did with that knowledge.
I revisited the memory of my mom lying to me when I was eight.
she said, ‘we can’t have fondue like other families, because I am allergic to fire.’
she had anxiety issues and was afraid the flames would kill everyone.
I ate cereal and didn’t call her on her bullshit.
when years later we finally had fondue it was jouissance.

sometimes I sleep with the light on.

1 week ago Notes (0)

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