Tag Archives: Michael Caylo-Baradi

Our island country wins Miss Universe again

This time, a trembling assaults us, in unison. It’s another year to forget our dysfunctions, now levitating on the echoes of our screams. It’s like an annulment from the struggles of our diaspora, beaming through the usual servitude in multiple … Continue reading

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Neighborhood Watch

The mouth is slightly opened. Perhaps an aborted scream. You can hear it in the eyes. It’s now a place of communion for arthropods. Others vulture them for a database, greedy for clues: the liquor store throws up stories with … Continue reading

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Immersions

Banish the eye beneath the surface. You are now diverting the pull of gravity among arms & thighs. Now listen to the silence of tiles patterned for surrender & uniformity. Then listen to the light cutting through waves & giggles, … Continue reading

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Escaping Country

In the heartland of a country song, lips form a disappearing margin. This is an embellishment of happiness: the greed of ecstasy. The laughter requires maintenance. The kiss must be as red as the flower beside the candle. The wine … Continue reading

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Study of Falling

The tears must wear the contours of the face, & prepare the mind for the void. Each pore is a question, a memory that stings, a voyage against the weight of breathing. Sun after sun descends in a grotesque dance … Continue reading

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Drown

A flow fills the mouth of your sink, until a river falls onto the floor, to occupy every inch of space and tiny crevice there, searching for escape, for the journey into the inevitable, the way you disappear from me … Continue reading

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Foreplay

It’s the underwear section, once again. Boxers, trunks, and briefs crave for my attention, trapped in shiny boxes waiting to be used and abused by the perennial scent of male body parts: a chemistry of cock odor and crotch sweat. … Continue reading

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Fever

Finally, the music is out, to promulgate the verdicts of redemption. And so, it’s imperative to undress ourselves now, from dark matters that relegate us to mere humans, trapped in the dress codes of civilization. The mystery of satiation hinges … Continue reading

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Ballad for a Possible Monogamy

Join me now in habits conditioned to celebrate the face in mirrors. I need a break from solitary selfies. I need your flawless eyebrows to over-manage mine, or castigate their imperfections with the edicts of style, the calculations of plucking, … Continue reading

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After Another Saturday Night

I followed the flight of birds trying to take me away from the comforts of a panoramic ocean view. Indeed, the music from Spotify struggles to convert me to last night’s level of cool, while the large painting on the … Continue reading

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Punctuated Lullaby

Sometimes I write about you into a series of lines around a moon, begging for hints that give bathroom mirrors new ways of unmasking fictions on a face. I see your eyes before each period policing me, telling me to hush already, … Continue reading

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An Autopsy for Another Weekend Night

I’m undressing you again, under the edicts of porn. The conspiracy began a long time ago, reducing us to bare essentials, the way twilights simplify the sun to candlelight weeping for more, on the curves and edges of heat. This … Continue reading

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In the Age of Innocence,

I’m partial to the beauty of the city, each time you muscle me with tales mustering us into a glow faint as distant stars. We restore tears in this sanctum, and use the body to weep, and sweat into beads, … Continue reading

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Marrakech

drifts around your tongue littered with souks, alleys & nights distilled in silhouettes expanding in overlapping thumbprints * As always, thirst levitates through a garden of hair beyond navels & beards into an architecture of curves built for ablutions & … Continue reading

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This hollow

is an assembly of bones, connected by scars crisscrossing each other into streets and alleys. Their corners are named by overlapping memories of things ancient, or as recent as the way you turn your face away from me, to capture … Continue reading

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Persistent Stories

of bodies crossing borderlines engorge the pitch of soundbites, and colonize revolutions in our blender. The camera distills their movements as new residents in the prison system of prejudice, incarcerated in speech fat with lists of violations that define a … Continue reading

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Communion

The skies are at it again, unable to bear their weight. Soon, the freedom of falling takes refuge on our bodies, colonizing every inch of us, with rabid certainty, as though, at last, they are destined to witness wounds simplify … Continue reading

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Dissolution

There is a hush in the room. It’s the city hiding beneath the scars on your face, buried deep in your touch, trying to escape in whispers, gasping for more. Then, shafts of streetlights wrap your body standing by the … Continue reading

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2am

is a trail of ants, another exodus into unchartered territory, to celebrate, once again, the body as perennial site of struggle. They bury their mandibles into lacerations, as though studying the depth of psychosis so self-assured in colonizing anatomies with … Continue reading

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