T3POETS

Hearing the Ice Cream Truck My friend’s flat is strung with all the souvenirs of living: birthday cards hanging from the fridge, blurry shopping lists in her childlike script, a lesser-known Penguin with spots of rust. One day we’ll make choices without doubt; we tell ourselves, as if telling makes…

Karen Carpenter skeleton-woman — i am sorry. * the clock has left you, your eyeballs empty pits where the light goes in. * you are cracked marble, fissured obsidian, a network of crisscrosses broken, and you should be whole, brimming * a round-faced moon, a silver silken shadower, night cast…

  Prologue   Malaysia is a prologue I am ashamed to write. friends etched chapters out of countries built and shaped their lives with homes in their mouths but Malaysia falls flat on my tongue Malaysia is good or fun but how do you condense contented isolation confused exhilaration a…

do not blame me for loving the 2003 film love, actually   because it should snow all the dogs should wear stupid shoes noses are beautiful at christmas when you are in love even when you are a grown man a body double in a porn film airports are beautiful…

On Breathing   There is no air in me, she says her flushed cheeks turned away no air for words the night presses in on us   I overdose her ignore the prescription label when she             stops talking I run a red light   no…