Kristen Orser
from E AT I
I got these wounds
(!)
This eye: I:
Oracles:
So much poppycock.
Full of purple—you
have that extremely rare quality.
: Fishermen
: Little fishes
: A hope
And dress up the boys
throw them off
a mirror.
(Tomorrow
(and someone else)) : I held
the boy. (What) I wanted:
: Anyone.
(?) Do you know,
I was delighted.
As soon as we
: Unwrapped
: Screamed
: Became panicky: Torn
: Anything is always a bore
with one young girl
for a long time.
(My) skull made her scream cymbals (!) adding to the peeling wall(paper) in a thunderstorm.
We
: Lipped
: Threw ourselves
: Suddenly
throwing a green ball, two
eunuchs carried a silver chamber,
(put it in my) ear the whole way.
It fastened. I
fell over
: Moon phases
: Bodies
: Little iron stars
: All my little pleasures :
Spoons cracked the eggs. The boy’s ears
are missed in such a way that is deeply
circular.
If s(he) likes you, (s)he likes you—if she doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like you.
Look(ing)
to us like a fat goose surrounded by fish : A fish out
of the ham.
: A nice name
round with perfumed
wanting, in fact, a bed.
I’d even begun crying: If I
see a bath, I’ll die.
(I was drunk too (in a most ingenious way). I began murdering (my friends))
((You) know I’m not lying))—
When I am dead I don’t want her to kiss me.
I kissed the apple, my little apple, the old girl too.
But nobody
ever gets enough. (!)
(Never
: Ten million (?) You got
your lady, twenty
bedrooms. (I want
to be buried)). Pretend I’m dead
and say something. Split
another pair in white slippers.
: Jupiter
: Poet
: Pimps
: Pretty boys
: My
ears, in a very nervous whisper :: If I can kiss this boy without his knowing it—
I’m not like you— Pinching
investigations.
Kristen Orser's work has appeared, or is forthcoming, from If Poetry Journal, Indefinite Space, Ab Ovo, elimae, Caketrain, and elsewhere. A chapbook, Fall Awake, will be published this fall by Taiga Press, and E AT I, from which the selection above is taken, will be published by Wyrd Tree Press next year. She says that, too often, she apologizes after walking into a chair.
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from E AT I
I got these wounds
(!)
This eye: I:
Oracles:
So much poppycock.
Full of purple—you
have that extremely rare quality.
: Fishermen
: Little fishes
: A hope
And dress up the boys
throw them off
a mirror.
(Tomorrow
(and someone else)) : I held
the boy. (What) I wanted:
: Anyone.
(?) Do you know,
I was delighted.
As soon as we
: Unwrapped
: Screamed
: Became panicky: Torn
: Anything is always a bore
with one young girl
for a long time.
(My) skull made her scream cymbals (!) adding to the peeling wall(paper) in a thunderstorm.
We
: Lipped
: Threw ourselves
: Suddenly
throwing a green ball, two
eunuchs carried a silver chamber,
(put it in my) ear the whole way.
It fastened. I
fell over
: Moon phases
: Bodies
: Little iron stars
: All my little pleasures :
Spoons cracked the eggs. The boy’s ears
are missed in such a way that is deeply
circular.
If s(he) likes you, (s)he likes you—if she doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like you.
Look(ing)
to us like a fat goose surrounded by fish : A fish out
of the ham.
: A nice name
round with perfumed
wanting, in fact, a bed.
I’d even begun crying: If I
see a bath, I’ll die.
(I was drunk too (in a most ingenious way). I began murdering (my friends))
((You) know I’m not lying))—
When I am dead I don’t want her to kiss me.
I kissed the apple, my little apple, the old girl too.
But nobody
ever gets enough. (!)
(Never
: Ten million (?) You got
your lady, twenty
bedrooms. (I want
to be buried)). Pretend I’m dead
and say something. Split
another pair in white slippers.
: Jupiter
: Poet
: Pimps
: Pretty boys
: My
ears, in a very nervous whisper :: If I can kiss this boy without his knowing it—
I’m not like you— Pinching
investigations.
Kristen Orser's work has appeared, or is forthcoming, from If Poetry Journal, Indefinite Space, Ab Ovo, elimae, Caketrain, and elsewhere. A chapbook, Fall Awake, will be published this fall by Taiga Press, and E AT I, from which the selection above is taken, will be published by Wyrd Tree Press next year. She says that, too often, she apologizes after walking into a chair.
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