12-30-2024
KIRBY
26 FEBRUARY 2021
my queer heart is with u if you got out of bed today and did anything at all to take care of yourself —Daniel Zomparelli
Government response
to COVID. Am I bitter?
No. Like yourself, observant.
One has to have money to be transgressive.
Never thought of it in terms
of bravery only being here
or not.
The gender of a plastic vegetable. A plastic anything.
Things that shouldn't
matter until they do
and the reasons they do.
Langston:
We
Who have nothing to lose
Must sing and dance
Christopher: “Lay it all
down babe.”
LAST LICKS
They wished to sing, sing
to forget
their true life of lies
and to bring to mind
their lying life of truths.
—Octavio Paz, “Epitaph by a Poet (g-neutral)”
Translated by Erín Moure
She’s up she’s up
Another gray full of dread
Nothing pretty on the corner
Morning shot dark soon
Assorted nights single malt
Note: Eat something
They’re all away.
Berlin Malaysia Vietnam Prague
One with a new beau in Lisbon
A matinee? Haven’t been to the cinema
Years, last time to see McKellan’s Lear
Bloke arrives late plops down
Texts, sees me, “You gotta problem?”
Nothing a refund won’t solve.
Who needs an audience?
*
Arenas too small. Everything an Event.
An insta spot. Burgers
Bigger than your head.
I’m telling you she’s done.
Cut from the tree years ago.
Past her expiry date
Can’t keep up. Can’t pretend
Otherwise. “Go on.
It’s okay.” She knows.
Who’s on top of the shit heap this week?
Ivy-leaguers, chants of genocide
Like that’s not something we do
Like it’s not next door
Or down the street haunts boarded up
Franchises vape shops
Buzz to enter. Advertisements
Replace shop windows QR codes
FREE delivery on orders over $150.
Penny for your thoughts
The five and dime. Two DollarRamas
Not worth the scooter you rode in on
*
Progress worthless progress woolworths
Progress woolco progress kmart progress
Penney’s progress malls progress
Automated coffee stalls
eBikes the only remaining jobs
30 mins or less
This cold cold ground
No place god forbid to sit
Seek comfort
Mistake you belong
Something viable
Linger longer than the twenty minutes
Allotted now trespassing
A nuisance
What are we doing here?
You’re hungry no Brothers
No Coach House no diners
Now specialty shops,
Tapioca through a straw
Someone’s flavour, not mine
Stopped making Tab decades ago
I liked the tinny taste the pink can
Girl. Don’t say anything they might
Cancel your ass HA!
*
Go on, she’ll manage.
No worries. I don’t put up
With me either.
Like my beloved Vera,
I’ll find my spot
Leave like a good girl.
Sundays. Suzanne. “Who will look
In on Jeff after I’m gone.” She was so
Lucky to have Rick. Brother, we all were.
I know your initial plan is/was to
Bleed-out like Gielgud in Caligula
In a glass tub no less. Class.
Is there anything more perfect
With a skin on it than grapes?
Pricey, but you don’t need a lot of them
Do you? Nature’s truffles.
Just a bite. Okay, maybe a small
Bunch, maybe one more
They’re just so. Caligula, a gleeful mess
So over the top phantasmagorically seventies
No reality at all
*
Reality all the rage
All people watch anymore
Who never leave their tents
Except in extreme circumstances.
Order in track on your phone.
Who the fuck wants to deal
With the “Problem? yeah my
Problem is I waited In this line
Over two and a half hours
Only to be directed to another useless
Fucking line if it were powder, I’d snort it
Maybe even leave you a lil no
I’m not a good person
Gave it up for Lent
Little tries my patience more than
Ineptness that covers itself up in ineptness
Calls itself service. Gives zero fucks.
“You can do this online you know.”
Outta grapes. One week they’re $2.99, $6.99
The next. Same grapes. I haven’t
Seen fresh apricots anywhere, of late
*
Have you? Avocados the current it girl, and
I don’t know what they've done to meet demand
But the last ones were flavourless
Fuck your avocado toast Bitches!
My illustrious queen full-on
Unless you’re like everyone else quoting
Some earlier season of Drag Race how the holy
Hell did that thing get on let alone the top three
Thank god she didn’t win. Could you imagine?
It’s a lil chilly all up in here can I hear an
Get up and shut the gd window ffs
Sunday. Two more hours of light.
I’m not going to cross the ocean
Either/any ocean this life. Penniless
You either have it or you don’t besides
It’s harder for her, for anyone really to travel
Everything is harder have you noticed?
Nothing works anymore, or it’s a fluke
Not exactly, but close.
Big toenail still black trying to
Make the last hand-me-downs fit.
*
Check showtimes, missed it again
I guess I didn’t really want to
The line-ups. People. It’ll stream.
Once Vera found her spot
Behind the toilet I didn’t think it was
Such a nice spot (though the floor was heated)
So I moved her, made a lovely bed beside me
On mine, but no that wasn’t her spot which once
I turned she returned to. “O, it’s gonna be
There is it? Okay. I’ll check in on you.”
“Thank you” she said, her head in my
Palm I thanked her back such a simple
Exchange between lovers the night she
Left and I wrapped her in an old childhood
blanket that protected me from Godzilla
Buried her under the quince beneath my balcony
I hope they have no reason to ever dig up soon
Cat bones in a blankie, there’s worse you could
Find. Far worse. That’s what we did with our
Pets. Buried them in the yard, Yes, we had yards.
Marigolds and lilies of the valley for trim.
*
She was always up to something. Suzanne.
Four kids three meals a day carting us here,
There when we did everything outside.
She’d set up a lounge chair so they could
Lay outside with all the other chairs
And blankie smiling cause they
Were that much closer the boys they
wanted to get up run around be with
“Mother may I?” Stick ball “No
They’re too old and play too rough for you.
Rick you look after your brother”
They ran laughing
Around the swing set only to be hit in the head
By a teeter-todder blood gushing
Rushing to emerge, stitches a tetanus
Shot, a dum dum lollipop, a cold washcloth,
Keep the fever down mashed potatoes
Canned corn, gravy, olio. She’s cold.
Another blankie? The cashmere lap blanket, the
Last thing I gifted her for the winter while she
Watched her shows. Big Brother. Survivor.
*
Reality. I guess I’m not making the 3:30
Showtime either. Time for a lil laydown
Normally wait til 4 but it’s Sunday like that
Matters. Wish I was going to or doing
Something else, that’s not true. I simply
No longer imagine. No longer peel
Potatoes, just smash them skins
On air-fry til they crunch. I still own a good
peeler, an old spatula, she’d always say,
“Take whatever you want,” from her
Stuffed kitchen drawers, ”Wait. Why
do you want that one?”
Up 4am why does the body
Joly at the thought
Of being killed?
SHE MISSES
future thinking
her pre-internet brain
things that work
being carefree
going to New York
travel without dread
the city she grew up in
cinemas with grand marquees
having to enter a place
old flames
wanting [to go outside or do anything]
the market my bread boy
walking without effort
dancing
going for drives
get up and go
seeing things
having a life
Saturday morning cartoons
-from She, selected by PoemoftheWeek.com Fall 2024 Guest Editor, Hollay Ghadery
KIRBY’s work includes She (KFB, 2024), Last Licks (Anstruther Press, 2024) Behold (2023), a stage adaption of Poetry is Queer (Palimpsest Press, 2021), What Do You Want to Be Called? (Anstruther Press, 2020), & This Is Where I Get Off (Permanent Sleep Press, 2019). Their column, “The First Time” is a regular feature at Send My Love To Anyone. They are the publisher at knife | fork | book kirbyshe.com
