Listen to Shy Watson do a reading from her new collection CHEAP YELLOW, out now from the very good people at CCM Press. As a bonus, listen to a recording of some dreams she had. We like this and Shy very much.
*
i can’t remember the funny thing about the cat
there is a street by a dunkin donuts
that you walk the girls down
you take them to the apartment
with the hall full of mirrors
i cry
every time
i come
if i could just run backwards
without falling
if i could just fall
without causing a scene
*
bjork
tongue like a metronome
yr pink door
sharks on your sides
eat my ass
i am so
morning after
i dont know you,
little bjorn,
baby bjorn,
i take a picture of you
& yr inky legs
in yr dirty bed
the big german moon
a whole bottle of you
the plates stacked by
broken chocolates
little known
crumpled sheets
the past 6 months
you tell me
im the best
gentle with the rim of you
gentle with the lips of you
pale as ice, little bird,
an entire bottle
my morning tongue
says
do forgive me
all sped up
as sad as berlin
halfway empty
this sunken pleasure
eyelids fading
little loss
little known
lipton tea bottles,
a sad, sick cat
an arching doorway
i find my shoes
little bjorn,
baby bjorn,
i wonder always
the smallest of things
*
the MET poem
there were black marble bedrooms
when the world was beautiful
pornographic or sanctimonious,
i dont remember
walking amongst ancient busts
thinking of vaporwave
all the koi across
big waters co-
existed
the restroom
i hear is in the
chinese gallery
thus i am in
the chinese gallery
in the restroom
my cell phone takes
a grainy selfie
planned obsolescence
in the 16th century
was unromantic
but the clouds
held cleaner water then
like if i fucked an
art history professor
i could see the world
thru his cum
fall/winter inspo
of 16th century saints
cloak & palette
their fingers
were as big
as my head,
constant boners
i think i want
to make a painting
of mitch
i am spoiled for this
& i will scream, sure
being a bad influence
on my dad & all,
i dreamt
a bumpy man in the corner
demanding i decorate
my room w oyster shells
like no thanks man
like my room was tropical
in high school don’t you know
send alex my thoughts
send amy my thoughts
send mitch my thoughts
compartmentalizing
my men &
labeling them, all free
we have grown in the ways
that we were supposed to
this much is certain
but why is this the way
i walk
