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1 poem
by
frankie bb

frankie bb is a map of eyes that have yet to assemble into a crowd, a jaw bone that dislikes being called "mandible" and prefers "crescent catcher." A guilty harvester who believes milk is best served wild. Words in and forthcoming: No Contact Mag, The Lickety-Split, Club Plum Literary Journal, Maudlin House, X-R-A-Y Lit, bedfellows magazine, B l u s h Lit, and Witchcraft Mag.

Author's Note: This poem is for CAConrad, composed using CAConrad’s Somatic Poetry exercise number 5, available here.

Bottom Water

—Couch Buzzard Books, Greenwood WA

 

 

Fate squeezes

  a makeshift kiss

   into the blade

of marriage. I ask

what is a cream pie, really?

just another reheated meal

  sneaking past

     some parted lips,

 mouth & anus shaped

  with the same mucosa.

For my next trick

            there will be tears

            in my nudes,

      a purpose I meant

     to give mouth to

    mouth to, until I could

         zoom out and

            speak to god or

      my *real* ex about

grand things

    like water bills or direct

        deposit or the romance

            section in an anatomy

                textbook. How a seed hums

                                          when tucked inside

                                              an empty pocket of earth

                                       filled

                                  with direct sunlight

                       before god shakes

         their dripping head

              leaving me

              to repeat myself, “I said it cus I meant it,

                           I meant it cus I screamed it.”