untitled
all those messages in the sky
they offend me
so i shout quotes at them
of things ive read
and couldnt say
my own words go into
a different space
marked, abandoned
i speak only in the abstract
when i speak her name
it is not hers but a character
when she speaks of me
it is not in life but in drafts
we meet in failed novels
mermaid
walking on a beach of tar
i hear a mermaid call
you wanna see my battle scar
and before i know it i somehow fall
under the waves now going so fast
already miles from my last breath
down deep farther than any fisherman can cast
and right before we reach the fatal depth
she says i wish you could see how your head will blow
HOMELESS DRUNK
He asked everyone to call him Walden.
Walden slept in the parks of Isla Vista
or sometimes the beach after the cops had rolled him.
Walden earned beer money by making deliveries for IV Deli,
had his own bike and everything, saw him pull out a wad of cash
when I sold him weed one time.
Another time Walden crashed our party on DP,
had to ask him to leave because everyone felt that we should but
didn't want to do it themselves because of what might happen.
So I went over and patted Walden on the shoulder
and said, after you finish your beer, you gotta go.
Yea. Okay, man. Thanks, said Walden.
Who knows what might have happened if
I had done it with a different inflection or gesture,
or if maybe Walden had been a bit drunker.
I guess that's why no one ever told him
that Walden is a place and not the name of the guy
who wrote the book.
__
Luis Silva is the editor of Electric Cereal. His writing has been published in glitterMOB, Luna Luna, and Metatron. His work as a translator has been featured in Adult and Shabby Doll House. He can also be found on Tumblr and Twitter.
all those messages in the sky
they offend me
so i shout quotes at them
of things ive read
and couldnt say
my own words go into
a different space
marked, abandoned
i speak only in the abstract
when i speak her name
it is not hers but a character
when she speaks of me
it is not in life but in drafts
we meet in failed novels
mermaid
walking on a beach of tar
i hear a mermaid call
you wanna see my battle scar
and before i know it i somehow fall
under the waves now going so fast
already miles from my last breath
down deep farther than any fisherman can cast
and right before we reach the fatal depth
she says i wish you could see how your head will blow
HOMELESS DRUNK
He asked everyone to call him Walden.
Walden slept in the parks of Isla Vista
or sometimes the beach after the cops had rolled him.
Walden earned beer money by making deliveries for IV Deli,
had his own bike and everything, saw him pull out a wad of cash
when I sold him weed one time.
Another time Walden crashed our party on DP,
had to ask him to leave because everyone felt that we should but
didn't want to do it themselves because of what might happen.
So I went over and patted Walden on the shoulder
and said, after you finish your beer, you gotta go.
Yea. Okay, man. Thanks, said Walden.
Who knows what might have happened if
I had done it with a different inflection or gesture,
or if maybe Walden had been a bit drunker.
I guess that's why no one ever told him
that Walden is a place and not the name of the guy
who wrote the book.
__
Luis Silva is the editor of Electric Cereal. His writing has been published in glitterMOB, Luna Luna, and Metatron. His work as a translator has been featured in Adult and Shabby Doll House. He can also be found on Tumblr and Twitter.
