Mouth to speak, it goes it goes
Illustration by Honey Simatupang
Period’s gone
down intestine
drain like light travels &
he was a saint who
fell
from the mouth &
nerves looks
kiss that nastiness
Can you believe we look at ditches & forget it’s the river?
River water - that’s the blood
coursing through
pulsating, a blasphemy
a coagulated epiphany
I have to die everyday, smelling
of copper & old books
that swell, & it’s disturbing
to listen
above the ceiling is the
mothering of music, carries
so much that the
frequencies lower
by the month
like that one party balloon
swollen thing, bring it down
pop it, so it pours itself
on us, the listeners, swimmers
which treat curves & walls
as something that needs
to be explored. Let it
pour the afterbirth. It
stinks up the apartment for
a week - wet rags/ pus/nobody
can appreciate this suffering/ mold
rice/ tin can of salmon/ bare
medium rare of dog’s feet
birth pool parties where
the fucker cousin shits
& everyone screams out
the chaos of our ownership
the pool outside your apartments
is plated so nicely, it’s a canvas
of party live livers
can host gallery nights of how
cousin couldn’t hold it, this painting
of livers is nothing
like the lovers you usually see,
but they’re pastel movers, bodies
tangled & so childish in their faces
yellowing the eyes
like they are a bateria they are running from
such cruel colors that bring
calm to people who don’t actually
see paintings, but look at them. The canvas
is much more, it’s that birthing
ceiling & tilts your head up like
you’re ready. The death of the room
& clear hotel muted browns along
with the afterbirth stain
the stain is still enough as art
to speak & say open your mouth
so you drown in what gave you life,
you involuntarily cry from force
& you can finally boast
you know what art is, you pretentious
fuck. It’s here. The toys & colors from
the bluest real blue to the seagull
shit on shoulder
& the worst pink Paris Hilton couldn’t
even
the trinkets & your will drenched
in this pool, this ceiling, nobody
wants you because you smell
like you were born,
you were everywhere at once,
because that’s how the beginning goes
you were the river & pool shit &
that balloon everyone talks about
like it’s a school pet
something waiting to burst
be alive & smell like
alive. It’s gaskets & Mercury.
It’s gamey. It’s freeing & the Colorado
morning air. It’s what
you complain about in the morning.
It’s bus seat.
Pulp, how it comes &
goes as we speak &
goes as we speak.
