Tuesday, April 24, 2012

a poem by curtis rogers

Cool-Looking Wallet Just Lying There in the Street

We can only have "so
much to spray"
for so long. A lotus

is none of
our business.
It hasn’t been

ourselves lately. Not
a general point-
blanking, or chutney

before we hit
the ground. You’re glue—
we you’re-glue

you. An omnibus sub-
merges in thimbles
of rosewater. This

is our game.
You play the part
of S/M. We are

as Busby Berkeley.
We are a quiz

at the end of this
bronze age. Brouhaha
in yes-or-no answers.

You kiss our brother.
Smell the sea-weed
in his hair. It’s only fair.

Curtis Rogers is an MFA candidate at NYU. He lives in Washington Heights, and co-curates the Emerging Writers Series at KGB Bar. 

No comments:

Post a Comment