All this tall grass has ruined my gold
acrylic nails & I know something’s dead
just beyond my window. I grew up
with rats running my floorboards
& know the smell straining from a body
once caught in a trap. In the city
what little I have of an ass
is always out, a simple wind blow
from Marilyn Monroe-ing the street.
Here, in all this nature, there is nobody
but me & my 5 friends for a week
& I promised myself I’d be naked
but the first day I found a tick
clinging to my arm hair for dear
life & decided no way I’m exposing
my pussy to the elements. My love
for nature is like my love for most things:
fickle & theoretical.
Too many bugs & I want a divorce.
Last week, before I was here
my uncle drove me from our city
to the suburbs & sang “Project Chick”
in the car. When we parked
he asked me to take off my shoes
& there we walked, silent, barefoot
circling the lake, trying to not step
in goose shit.
He walked in front & I trailed behind
both our hands clasped behind our backs.
When you were my daughter,
those were the happiest days of my life.
I wish you would come home.
My love for the past is like my love
for most things. I only feel it when
I’m gone. Best to stay gone
so I’m always in love. If I look
at something too long it forgets
its joy. All the floorboards carry
death. My gold nails are fake
& chipped. My bare feet skirt the shit.
© Fatimah Asghar
Some other random works of this poet:
- Super Orphan
- Pluto Shits on the Universe
- For Jonylah Watkins, Who Was Shot 5 Times While Her Father Was Changing Her Diaper
- I Don’t Know What Will Kill Us First: The Race War or What We’ve Done to the Earth
- For Peshawar
- If They Should Come for Us
- Main Na Bhoolunga
- Smell Is the Last Memory to Go
- From “Oil”
- Ode To The Brazillian Wax
- Ways I Am Tired
- An Ode To Granny Panties
- Game Of Thrones
- Look, I’m Not Good At Eating Chicken.