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Author Archives: perfectsublimemasters
My Venice
* From my train window seat I see the blue sparkling water. Is there any better welcome from the city floating on the sea? The sea rocks streets, calle, bridges, squares, gardens, the little islands of the shining lagoon. I … Continue reading
Vantablack Mindset
quarantine is the real-life Hotel California, i can’t unthink it. you know, that Eagles song? even American Horror Story had an entire season about it, with Lady Gaga. time and time, again. i’m found, trapped inside the same desolate house … Continue reading
Una tavoletta di cera / A Wax Tablet
Original by Franca Mancinelli Uno sguardo dall’alto ricongiunge tutti quelli che sono divisi Hugo von Hofmannsthal Lo sciame di minuscoli insetti è rientrato in un’ansa dell’aria. Resta un allarme quietato, una scossa nel profondo delle cellule. Ho risalito le scale … Continue reading
Calves
My partner’s ex hiked cross country He passed through for a meal and a hot shower I stared hypnotically at his detailed pair of calves Boasting layers and stark division Apparently available in all calves, even my own If I … Continue reading
Oxygen Tank
for Halle The woman across the street had cancer while I was pregnant both my neighbor and the baby knuckle-gripped life one growing marrow and bones the other using a portable oxygen tank she dragged behind her like a child … Continue reading
Motherhood
As my daughter napped I scooped her goldfish from the tank and flushed them down the toilet, watched as each swirled to its untimely death. The goldfish were her father’s idea, a present on her third birthday. At first, she … Continue reading
Day of the Dead
Jesus in Mexico, flesh always caught in a fence of thorns, always gaunt-hollow and bleeding. He is tattered in torn purple, crawling to you, beseeching you with upturned claws. You swerve to avoid the lepers and the limbless in the … Continue reading
Our Daily Bread
The prairies are inside you, you are covered in dust and disarray, in clouds so close they are kissing the hay. The mares are tough and determined, like you, and resigned to their purpose. Well, I have always been a … Continue reading
The Creek is Swelling
The creek is swelling, you don’t need to be told, because you can see it spilling over the creekbed into the backyard, which wasn’t muddy before, but now is, all the grass drowned by hungry water, hungry for what, you … Continue reading
Telogen Effluvium
After my mom passed, I found a few strands of hair on my shoulders/in the shower/on my pillow It didn’t bother me at first because I had an abundance to spare but soon I found clumps in my brush. They … Continue reading
The Matchbook Room
First performed by an actor as part of the Liars’ League Portland (now defunct) What I wanted to tell you about was Grin. How she collected matchbooks and how it’s a dying art form. Her full name was Grinalda. She’d … Continue reading
Buypast
blaring the loopholes the out-of-body, walk in me a lost remuneration birthright apocalypse paved roads with chalk signs hours before we left for the station the Tupperware rice went stale inside a crowd a bus we got off a fear … Continue reading
Identity Poem
I am bare bones / brittle skeleton / no skin thick tongue / thin hair / no voice / I taught myself to speak quietly or / not at all / I am disruptive / disrespectful / dissimilar from my … Continue reading
I never knew
I remember getting out of your car, the green Mustang, and getting into the car of a traveling salesman. I never knew you came back to the entrance of the Pennsylvania Turnpike to look for me. It took you forty … Continue reading
Roots
Jeremy pointed into the hole. “See that?” he asked, looking up. “Roots.” The men crouched over the dirt and peered at the opening. “I can’t see anything,” Jack mumbled. Jeremy took a stick and shoved it into the darkness. “Right … Continue reading
The Thinker 2020
How many Coronavirus molecules would fit on the head of a pin? I just don’t get why the David gets more likes than I do. How can I lessen my carbon footprint? Is it time for a Tesla? I think … Continue reading
In praise, age
To make beautiful: fire & steel, water to cleanse, kiss the underbelly of a knife like a heifer. I remember looking into a bowl of ivory once. Carved into the once-bone is the silhouette of an animal made deathless for a house … Continue reading
Blushing Red
Grandma didn’t have a washing machine in 1960 when Old Korea began to industrialize so she had conversations with bald eagles perched on dispirited cobblestone. She worked at the bottom of the hill where people would scour for herbs and … Continue reading
Ferme tes Yeux
A young boy on a vintage postcard from France sat on a cobblestone sidewalk – his elongated shadow scaled the gray stone wall of some café behind him. Before him, a circle of cat eyes blue, green, and yellow stared … Continue reading
Marginalia
For J.Y. I once told you that you made me want to steal books. You said that was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you. The other day I found a copy of Camus’ The Fall on … Continue reading
Goat Recipe
A goat shoves his nose between my legs while we are herding them. You do not look amused. There are strange things I have learned about you. How you only feel at peace with that which you possess. At dinner, … Continue reading
Membranes
I didn’t know what a membrane was and then you told me. I started attributing the word to everything, even things that were not membranes; in fact, especially things that were not membranes. When black mould multiplied in the shower … Continue reading
Starsick
On a standard family holiday, the kind where parents pretend to be too good for the city they strut in and talk about escape but they’re merely sick of the heat and their kids getting restless, on such a holiday … Continue reading
Definitions of Water
thirteen & i’m reborn in the acrylic womb of the Jordan tainted with confessions. i beg for absolution, my mother hunched at the flooded bus stop—pink umbrella in hand. i asked for warmth, for mercy, monsoons in Suzhou during the … Continue reading
Unmoored
And the weight of these hands in my pockets suggests that we’ve finished a few bottles of wine buffering ourselves against that cold blackness of everlasting space, while John bent over the squat tripod recklessly turning unidentified knobs along the … Continue reading
