Lately, So Much Wallpaper’s Stuck on Things that Aren’t Walls,
The news networks blink in code,
send out psychic flare guns.
“Help. I’m an illusion.”
At a high school desk last week, in
a black and white TV static sweater,
a girl peeled an almost clear,
empty plastic cup of water into bits.
Why don’t more people question object permanence?
Everything else vanishes.
She set them down to make a nest
of realities, organised like clementine segments.
But still: quite the mess.
I’ve never seen my face before.
All my parallel universe selves,
who’ve given me that “I get it” look,
from my mirror’s off limits side,
I miss knowing what was real,
back when I was wrong.
I miss having ethical precedent over people.
I wish anger was a real feeling at least once.
Been punching through my room’s walls,
to get the cosmic surveillance rig to reveal itself.
I cut my arm open, again and
again to find some source code.
There’s someone on the sidewalk.
I want to rip all that gift wrap off,
fall to my knees
“So that’s what you look like.”
Daniel Kuriakose is an 18 year old high school senior who loves poems and is scared of dying. He lives in Woodbridge, CT.
I'm standing in the wind.
We had five years left to cry,
stay in, get things done.
The wordy gurdy stands
quiet in the middle of my head;
missing pieces [with just enough
shine] rubber-banded tog-
Back then, when she rose
from her beach chair, the weave imprinted itself
on the backs of her jiggly thighs.
Who would have carried it this far,
up the crest between watersheds,
then quit before the downhill?
This was your domain.
Pocket jingling a handful of brads, flat pencil behind your ear,
you’d bore through the browsers; pay and go.
When you rose from the sea
the crown of your head
touched the clouds
A conveyor belt delivers mutton and fowl.
Hot meringues suffer and collapse
under my ruthless fork.
His breath tripped over words stuck between his teeth
and tongue as sinewy shoulders curved.
The child stood, small, shivering in her tattered brown coat,
a dented, scuffed brown suitcase gripped in her hand.
mushrooms, beets, carrots, cabbage,
uncle’s ashen face.