Today, a new day, pray
For a fresh addiction. Can I please have a mug of black coffee,
Please. Salted caramel, please. Another noose around my neck.
Please. Please. I've been told that it's in style. Does it wreck my
Look. Say no. Say yes.
Say dress. Say yes to the dre
Well come in
To the exit. Shake hands, nod heads, prepare smiles,
Steal phrases from stolen phrases, shape(d) faces like
Mannequins. Unbruised hands and legs, hand me the abuse
Slowly swing on the dance floor, mopping the kitchen floor,
Manically making bread out of flour, four and five and six o’clo
If my father was in a building with a fire I would save
The fire. If I understood sex and not just what goes in
And what stays out I would have loved to try it on me. If all creation
Is sexual, did God mastur
Leave the gourmets, the heels, the red orange feathers
Inside. Leave your skin, too.
Come as you are. Not as you were. Certainly not as you would have been
If the rose wasn’t just a rose,
Or if the night wasn’t just and always dar
Christos Kalli, born in Larnaca, Cyprus, is currently studying for his undergraduate degree in English Literature at the University of Glasgow. He is active in the English and American poetry scene, and he is always trying to broaden his network. His most recent poems can be found/are forthcoming in the minnesota review, Oxford Magazine, The Maine Review, Red Paint Hill Poetry Journal, Hobart, among others. He is currently a Poetry Reader for The Adroit Journal & one of the reviewers of Prole Magazine.