Poems

Notes after Watching HBO in a Hotel Room

Throw open that leaf of glass and let
           me slurp cloves/tusks of weather
so wild and dark, touching thunderously
triumphant & writhing
as I die.

Please sit beside me
and grab my heart
that firmly glances at goodbye
for the relief it offers.

I have stepped on the earth
dived in the horizon
melted in all the hatred of existing
while being enclosed in dead materials
while what is allowed to live
is only the head.

It turns out
bowing in cowardice is much
more charming.

No longer do I want to provide service
as self
of existence when
what I see is no longer the self
of mine
and this —

I hand over a bet
without the slightest attitude of toughness.

I want to slip away and go
according to the terms that I determine
myself.

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