poems by Livia Creț

Fries

 

I’m gonna take a great time talking about fries
And nothing else
Fries – meaningless, right?
But doesn’t it soothe you?
You’ve reached that point!
You can write and talk about whatever
The fuck you want.
Great for you,
Little human
Disaster
Asteroid
Clashing
On the platform of Uranus
The god who did not care for your desire
And yet whom you called when you had nothing to hang yourself from –
A branch, a luster
It’s coming together.
Your eyebrows
Now
More released
Are the proof.

Who’s going to get money off of this?
No one,
For sure.
Great deal
Again.

But anyway,
I’m the one who’s winning the most
In this hopeless lottery –
How gross!
Betting on people’s success
When you know
You need less
Of a horse winning the chance
To get you
Turned up
For the
Cast.

 

 

 

No light, no match, no world

 

I’m afraid to let go
I keep all my dangers in the pockets of
my precious suit;
If I’m not in peril,
How can I walk down the street
Feel the breeze, smell the fermented
beer,
Laugh at their laughs,
Mind my business,
But also be a man of men?

I can’t!
I need my exquisite air
To fit the lighters and matches
Of the world that hunts me down
and wants to burn
Myself, my things, but mostly my
thoughts –
They’re a danger to them
And they’re not like me – they don’t keep
the peril close
They’re afraid to be afraid
But their foolishness will pay
I might just turn against –
Spit, thrust and do crime
As no man before has seen.
I’m not in danger,
Are you still?

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