Today at School

Today at school

nobody learnt anything

the teachers were stuck to their desks

the students were accidentally put on silent

we sat in a circle in a classroom

I felt my claws extending and retracting

my words, too

extending and retracting

and my eyes were stuck on the three girls opposite

each retrieving a phone from a pocket

glancing, tapping

putting it down

glancing, tapping

putting it down

extending and retracting

repeat steps 1-3, several times, until the hour is over

and you’ve successfully attended a tutorial

the clock strikes eleven

silently

then everyone leaves

just to step out until 10 past

and then, entering into the next room

for the same scene again:

“hi everyone, did you all have a good weekend?”

“what did you enjoy from the lectures this week?”

ok, let me see.

Tuesday.

the doddering American with his slow, yellow-lettered slides and these are the statistics of my country, the United States, and here you can see FOURTY-five, surprise surprise, FOURTY-five percent of the population denomination legalisation industrialisation

and at this point the phones got pulled out again

and again

sky blue bubbles dotting the theatre

and no-one was listening of course,
but nothing was being said

…we’re caught in our own ellipses

waiting for someone else to speak

Moontide



with straining eyes,
she holds a simple glass
milk poured from the grey dark
walks outside to the blue dark

with burning ears,
she breathes in the pinpricks
they fade in blinks
everything still, a silhouette

with white skin,
she passes two hours by
sipped, swigged, taken
the glass is empty

with naked feet,
she sees a sky blushing itself awake
one hundred metres from
a better smudged yesterday

Ocular Trauma

I was coating myself in glue

so I wouldn’t have to move

when you came to warm

your ego by the fire.

Your face was

carefully constructed,

an ice sculpture

you crafted yourself

in the mirror that morning.

 

But your voice didn’t reach me—

it got stuck

at the letter ‘I’.

 

I glared through the flames

and spat out the sparrows

pecking at the walls of my stomach.

 

They struck you above the ears,

such was the shock

that your eyes loosened,

unscrewed themselves, and fell out.

 

I caught them in my modest hands,

clutched them

to my chest.

 

When you left

to comb your black hair

with a brick

 

I kept your eyes

rolling around in my pocket

with a twenty cent piece

and a list of neglected wishes.

 

I found a park, where I sat

next to a patch

of marbled white mushrooms

and stared at my knees.

 

After an hour, I felt your eyes

looking through my clothes

at the ridge of my back,

my spine stretching forever

up, down and across.

 

I took out your eyes

and held them up

to the nearly cloudless sky,

begging them to see

from a higher point

or a more distant planet.

 

The six o’clock light

was stroking my cheeks,

begging me not to cry.

 

I tried to swallow your eyes

after my cup of hot lies

and a slice of dry hope

but I choked.

 

They wouldn’t go down

because they could never be

a part of me.

 

So I left them that night

on a street corner

underneath a flickering street lamp

in the hope that one day

they would see light.

Small Talk

she’s walking to class

holding books and a shiny calculator

her polite hair and polite mouth

huge bulging breasts

the clouds block the sun momentarily

her textbook is upside-down in an awkward

way so you see only the letters ‘la’

your eyes flicker upwards to hers

“hey! how are you?”

“yes, good- you?”

“yeah good thanks!”

thick black hair

black hair tucked behind hot ears

reaching down, down buttons being undone ripping down, down

“what subjects are you doing this term?”

“I’m doing –“

fucking

fucking hard on the floor

on the cold, hard floor

fucking in cold sweat on the cold, hard floor

her leg over yours tighter and tighter

“lit, finance, chem, creative writing and”

“oh cool. I’m doing finance too – hahha uah sorry”

bumps into you accidentally, hair stuck between your arm and shoulder

sliding her tongue up your

whispering, hot, biting, tearing

she clutches your hands and

she breaks your bones and

she

“hey um, how was your weekend?”