kelly-zhangWhisper

American

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Adventures of a Supermarketwe went to the supermarket, / took our cameras to photograph / homogenized colors like the milk

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her Pepperoni PizzaWaiting for the subway and talking on the phone with her, he asked: *pepperoni or cheese? You choose.* “Pepperoni would be good,” she said and he hung up. The 7 train arrived, blowing back his hair. The doors opened with a dull beep and he stepped through into the air conditioning. / He sat down in the plastic orange seat, putting his backpack on the floor in between his calves. When he stopped by at their favorite, Franco’s, “Pepperoni or cheese? You choose.” *Pe – Cheese would be good*, he found himself saying. In a strange act of deviousness, he decided it would be a brilliant joke. / At home, she was disappointed when she saw and went to heat up spinach leftovers. As she opened the microwave door and put in the white ceramic bowl, a great sadness came over him, and he only managed to swallow down a few bites before dropping the profane slice back onto his plate.

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Your Papa's donkeydon’t *ever* tell me that / you love me, / I am afraid I will run away like

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Throwing Lettuceyou asked what I thought of you / point-blank, blunt / Bewildered, I examined the birthmark on your arm

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Throwing Lettuce (revised)you asked what I thought of you / point-blank, blunt / Bewildered, I examined the cross-shaped birthmark on your arm (you were agnostic)

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because,to henry, love elana: / i miss you because i know the most action you’re getting these days is slipping an extra big tip into the delivery girl(who forgot the napkins again)’s hands, and i know her hands feel nothing like mine. so i’m sorry because we always had eggplant pizza together which everyone else thought was strange, because i miss you, because sometimes – i hint at you to our delivery girl so she’ll tell me how you’re doing (i hear you have the flu, drink some fluids other than dr. pepper, okay?). / To Elana, Love Henry:

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piano meflit over piano / keys, spin out something just for me, newly invented, / never spoken before

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The Biggest Parade the-world-has-ever-seenwe can paint this whole city gold like a giant oil spill, / blinding and much much heavy on your tongue / and enlist a gleaming marching band whose buttons are falling off,

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ClementineShe used to read me poems she’d made out of glass and soft wool, and I’d always fall asleep to her lilting words. A ring sat on the 3rd finger of her left hand, a pair of kissing silver fish. She twisted it when she was nervous, and when I looked at her for too long. / Although I am sure she often looked at me for longer. / Some days I almost forget her name, and it makes me sad. So I wrote it down on a slip of paper and now keep it in my pocket, for that insane fear of letting her go entirely. Clementine; she was beautiful. One detail I remember clearest was she only had one freckle in her entire life. It sat just underneath her left cheekbone, and she liked it because I did.

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Mitch. (I think)He tells me he likes nachos while we sit in front of his living room TV, / lights dimmed. his dog has shed relentlessly on this couch. / I’m feeling dizzy, because I’m pretty sure that cheese was growing mold and I remind myself that

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