Cartesian Theater in the American Drive-Thru
BY CAMONGHNE FELIX
“Talk around the obvious. The whole country’s going to shit.” – Akilah Oliver
It’s really awful here. Sun shines through the blinds. A cliche takes a genius. When the poplar sings it’s not song. The glutton is what the body suffers. Look at us all full with all that suffering. The floor is hallowed ground. The floor is actually lava. The mouth speaks a language it can’t take home. The mouth wants to see the edge of the eye. Looking is penance. Looking is a violence well earned. There is ground and sky and hellfire. If I say it any clearer will it lose its moment. If I say it any clearer is the moment ennui. The truth is a disagreeable memory. The lie does the thinking. You saved $10 shopping alone. At face value. What a rage of a life. Is it worth it. Is it here on earth. Is it scalable. My whole husband took my ride. I drenched the fence black. I plussed the 2.5. What’s left is economical. What’s left but sediment and wine.
Manic Eyes
BY CAMONGHNE FELIX
You can’t not dance. No thing derides you but the blues. No hospital gurney can hold you, no syntax can sound you, the lie of the meatless threatens you and in the sick of its mouth you dare to be alive. The one who loves you is missing but the ticking is time, you count it. The shadow
is yours, you measure it. Another drink? Send it. The bells
are dawning , you heard it. That whisper of delirium is the master of your blood. The doctor is an ornamental consequence. You’re a sharp note blown at climax. Kneel before your persecutions. Wish everything a soft happening. Where we are going cannot be mapped. Will you return? Pick a color and swell it. Pick a song and hold it. You are the untouched particulars. Every single deity died loving you.
4 am in the ER
BY CAMONGHNE FELIX
It wasn’t that I could be convinced but that
I hadn’t been. Every hunt came up
Empty. I saw a window and wanted to
Widen the ledge. I felt the draft
And closed it. The ghouls live
Down the stairs. Every one of us
Has wandered away from the mouth
That feeds, somewhere lost in the aisles of
A convenience store. On the one hand
I wanted to live. On the other
Was dealer’s choice.
