Poems
Cristine Briche
Extinction Level Event (Ask Your Parents)
Is god real?
i painted a skull on my face using Pat McGrath’s Sublime Skin Highlighting trio
it was a divine coincidence
My living quarters and existence
Were that of a poverty-stricken gorilla caged at a zoo
the same beggary my teeth hold at night
A meteorite could hit me
I’d drink tea and my grin would turn to glass
Then finally I’d shatter across the globe
Why run from disapointment
when you can throw yourself to the tsunami
DIE IN MY ARMS
if i were to lean in close and whisper in his ear
i’d say, “You forget
you don’t have to lie anymore
’cause you’re an adult
Feudal Mutations & Meditations
At the very least
music offers
some of the freedoms
I have left
At the very least
bits and pieces
of my own mind
Remnants of a liquid
left in a container
together
with any sediment
or grounds
Oh, to give myself to a black hole
Evil won’t ever forget you once you welcome it into your home
It Blushes in the dark
I Disavow my most unwanted part of self
I, danger
I’m Really excited to show you who i am deep down inside
My language faints
Maybe you can catch it, who knows
it’s foreign to you, yet you feel it
in The gravity
that causes a single tear to fall
And trickle own your tender bitter cheek
It’s precious to behold
when i dream, i have power
and stray from evil’s poison
deep behind my eyes:
Two blissful
black black holes
You look in me as countless worlds arise
suddenly I am responsible for them all
But in a good dream i don’t have to care,
So goodnight
in sleep i can at least hire someone else
To be alone for me
To be awake
To swim on the edges of another’s long deep gash
In our eyes
Many dimensions of time and space recline
An odalisque in confident attraction
To what is truly yours:
The language god gave you
To always speak in true love
an emissary of another’s universe into your arms
Oh how i beg when i find an instant i cannot keep:
“Say It is so”
“God, please do not betray me once again”
but those unrelenting anxieties
Of wasted time and trust
in one’s society
Something pure and colonial
Annexed part of my soul
Like an analog radio dial stuck between two stations