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Poem of the Day: Queerodactyl. By Roy G. Guzmán.
My heart was a dystopian
berry budding in water tiger
lilies claiming
hocus-pocus wonder. I was broken
vanity, vixen vase, victorious tête-
à-tête — the Scrabble game nobody won
because the tiles aspired speculums.
Ocean-misaligned brook / brook-misaligned
agua
— where else could these gospels have dawned
if not in the bellies of men
hyenaing a becoming?
Twerking in church,
I outperformed the candles
diarized in the simpleminded annexation. Wussup,
Blastoise
with the veiniest homebound
pika-pika aim?
Wussup, Sims
Chumbawamba Family Portrait Simulation?
St. Sunny of the Sissies
beheld the bukkake throng
of mojo-coated cartilage
squandered
on the refurbished bunk
for new cetaceans. A dazzling jeremiad
shone me dead
until I gridlocked the algebraic expressions
of my body in question marks.
These syndicated fiyahs
stigmatized my herculean magma
shades,
but I held these walls apart,
every inch of my mascara cut off
apple pie.
You watched me hobble home
while the streets coalesced magenta. Tell Momma
the holes I cover with one error
swell — & there are only inadvertent landscapes
to dollop with nonetheless.
Aired March 19, 2019
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