Three Poems
a poem for my parents dying of communism
tonight i should have put up the shower curtain
and cleared about 100 bags of paper trash from
the spare bedroom
(who has a spare bedroom in oakland
and especially not a dying poet?)
but instead i submitted things
to literary magazines i have never read
and dont intend to
and thought about you in my big bed
with the comforter so fluffy that
you kinda hate it
the dog wont stop licking his paws
and so i have been mollycoddling him
nonstop
but the fancy food i bought him
that i cant afford
has only made it worse i think
when the russians (by that they mean
anti-americans)
took over livejournal
and everyone archived their old entries
downloaded them and printed them out
to save with old birthday cards or whatever
i only pretended to
but i kept my account
because i hardly have anything else
nothing tangible anyway
some scars
and to log in to 2001 and read
its the only connection to
something i should bury but cannot
on the first of the month
every month
i search for my parents obituaries
in case they have died
half hoping they have died
so that i can finally tear my clothes
and pretend that i havent been mourning
for 13 years
and get it over in some six days thing
and i sit on my bed contemplating death
my sleeping pills
a dream i had last night
about an affair with a dying hospital patient
and moving into a hotel
we have this way of naming our beaches
like we are trying to catch fireflies
like we actually believe
they won't die in that glass jar
Poem
when you purr and
spit blood
my dear
i no longer question
magic
is it illegal
to scream
Nazi
in a crowded theatre
illegal to burn
men at the stake
to stomp
their thin blood
into wine for
the panicked
to drink
speak: guilty
speak: guilty
Poem
i am writing
this poem from
the tiny space
under my bed
where i
some
times
go for quiet
to listen
to the sound
of my heart beating
in my stomach
like it's a violent act.
and i think
everyone who knows hunger
does
Liv Grace
Liv Grace used to live on the other coast and now lives on this coast, seemingly perpetually moving from one house to the next along with their dog, Karl Bark, and about 100 houseplants. Liv's chapbook, Driveway to Nowhere is out with Radical Paper Press right now. Their work has also been published in 8 Poems Literary Journal, Caper Literary Journal, INK & NEBULA, Bone & Ink Press, Looking Glass Magazine, Scribbler, Paintbucket, and is forthcoming in Elderly Magazine. Liv dropped out college three times and has no degree.
Twitter: @lollipop_bandit