skateboarders on maple lane
curbside demigods, they pop
tic-tacs like cyanide,
crushing them to dust against their gums.
i’ve never seen them skate- they’re too busy
scratching sigils in the asphalt, tipping
lukewarm beer down storm drains,
graffitiing a new identity to sweat-slick skin.
they squint at soda cans in the sunlight,
try to read the prophecies printed
somewhere between flavouring and xanthin gum.
even when ice coats the street
like milk on vocal cords, they come in droves,
signing blood oaths in the snow with cherry coke
that drips from a bilingual can.
Sasha Carney is an aspiring poet from Ottawa, Ontario and a student at Yale University studying English and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. They are a twice-winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award, the creative director of Voke, an LGBTQ-centred soken word group, and a social media intern for Marías at Sampaguitas. Their work has been published by The Poetry Society, The Yale Herald, and Nightingale and Sparrow, and is forthcoming in Kissing Dynamite and Broad Recognition. In their spare time, they enjoy embroidery and overanalysing sitcoms.
コメント