my mother is in detox and i am wondering
if anywhere does a falafel sandwich on a bagel
i am watching documentary films in standard
definition on amazon prime to save a dollar
i am falling in love with a man online
because he asked me how i am doing
or because he reminds me of lutz forster, dancing
with his hands. if only because he is wearing his whole persona
with his chest out, nipples stinging visibly,
in my twitter dm’s
my mother is in detox and i am high
thinking about the movie men in black 2
when will smith said to rosario dawson
YOU’RE NOT SAD BECAUSE IT’S RAINING
IT’S RAINING BECAUSE YOU’RE SAD
it is raining and i am not sad at all that i know of
what i mean to say is, i want to eat cement if you are eating cement
and i recognize that this is an unreasonable level of commitment
given our present level of intimacy, but my mother is in detox
and i have to fall in love with the future right now.
i have to wear metal in my skin
and feel it warm and cool while i think of you.
i have to stay very still and wait
move over and let me do it
cradling your still head
while i shave away your hair feels
like keeping an egg safe for a grade.
i wish we could stay forever
like this pi-egg-tà us
covered in a layer of your hair
like i am an animal and you are
the animal who is my mother
and our itching skins might come loose.
and we sync our breaths so every frame
of half-shorn you in my arms looks
like we were carved from the same stone.
Zach Blackwood is a queer black poet and Samantha in philadelphia, pa. he has poems published in peach magazine, voicemail poems, bedfellows magazine, tenderness, yea, and other places too. he lives with a beautiful brown dog named pig. follow @blackwhom for pig pics.