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Carlo C Gomez Jul 2023
The cocktail waitress in the corner

Tonight she skates at Roller City

In polka dots and ponytails

Her lips pursed and polished

For she disapproves of most everything that offers little reflection

No bringing your own music

No pinching the dancers

She moves to a secret sound

Regarding herself as an international spy

In the house of fun
"I'LL BE IN HIGH SCHOOL FOREVER"
I scream
My friends have moved on from my early death
At the age of seventeen
My graduation dress was a dream;
Never sewn, only glimpsed,
never seen.

Buy me a cassette,
Buy me a carousel
-Hold me close ma, hold me closer-
Buy me some time and a jet and I'll leave.
I won't pretend to be so mean.
I wouldn't pretend
to be so mean.
It's been a while. Here's something that made me think to think of you. It's a little wonky, things have been a little disjointed for me, but how have you been? We should hang out sometime. We should really reconnect.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2023
She egresses from a pool of blue and straight into the colorless, Californian dregs of summer.

Each passing plane reminding her how stuck she is.

The question remains whether some people are doomed to just survive, a yearning for freedom following them around, until they learn to numb themselves to such aspirations.

Faraway trains pass by.

The sound in their whistles knowing the events she will litigate with herself for years to come until it empties the contents of her soul.
sofolo Oct 2022
Autumn leaves burning
In the backyard
The scent accented
By a nearby
Lilac tree

What a weird thing
Memory

Like the shack
Closed door
Dusty sneakers
On the floor

Exploring bodies
And fantasies
Galore

Don’t let the hinge bend
Keep it shut
If they don’t see
It didn’t happen
I mean…
We’re only friends
shhhhh
sofolo Oct 2022
This cabin smells damp
Tucked away in the timber
Backroaded
Secluded
Welcome to Deer Camp

It was wintertime
And we had to ***
Into a tube in the wall
PVC

I’m at that awkward age
Not lanky
But frumpy and weird
So hand me a rifle
For the slaughter
Of a creature I revered

Man, what we do
To make our fathers proud

My secret was
I hated guns
And loved boys
I really only went on this trip
Because I heard that John
Grilled some mean potatoes

Accented with caramelized
Onions and garlic
The rumors were true
The fire crackles
Against a sky
Of light blue

I watched these men
Bearded and loud
Would I ever be like them?
Did I want to be?
My quiet heart
Felt alien
A freak

I wasn’t a hunter
Instead I gathered
A harvest of me
Thoughts and emotions
Into a cauldron
Of poetry

But I kept that part
Hidden
Tucked away
For another day

The men in their
Camouflage attire
Yawn as the sun sets
I try to fit
Into the cabin
We retire

The lantern’s light
Flickers across
The walls of the room
Sam’s Club candy
For dessert
Distant thunder
Booms

It was bedtime
And a storm was rolling
In the atmosphere and in
My head full of fear

Can someone please
Get me out of here

I cried from my cot
“Please take me home”
My dad glared

What a disappointing
Drive that was
Have I ever not
Let you down?
I think
As blankly ahead
I stared

We pull into the driveway
Ignition turns off
Headlamps extinguish
He unlocks the door
By the light of the moon
I feel
Relief and anguish

Mom was annoyed
This was supposed to be
Her weekend alone
Grieving the death
Of her own mother
She hugs me
While wiping
A tear from her
Cheekbone

Steel Magnolias
And a box of Kleenex
I ruined that

You brought a fairy
To deer camp
What did you expect?
sofolo Sep 2022
We met in kindergarten
Miss Wolfe’s class
Into an ear I whisper
A shy boy’s bargain

I knock on your door
Pray the dog
Doesn’t **** me
Seems like a metaphor

Laughter and chasing geese
Stealing glances
And prances in the woods
Sprained ankles in the creek

Your moon-drenched family room
And our primal need
Bodies glide
Into foreign feelings
I concede

We’re both shaving now
Not children
Yet not men
In between and fooling around

In my attic bedroom
Space Jam soundtrack
Hoping my mom doesn’t hear us
My hands on your back

Then moving down
Committing little sins
Shhhhhh
Don’t make a sound

Then the bed of my dad’s truck
Some hand stuff
Never a ****
Never enough

You get up and leave
I want you to stay
I play the radio
97 ZOK

Meredith Brooks
And I hate the world today
Because I’m a *****
But I like me this way

Fifteen and fevered
Down Mix Street
I rollerblade
Turn right on Worth
My love for you
Is such a sad parade

Remember when
We camped on the lawn
Quiet light and secrets
Then that wicked dawn

Dragging us back
Into a world
Where our desires
Don’t belong

We are strangers now
With a little bit of everything
All rolled into memory
Like a sacred vow

I’m your hell
I’m your dream
Do you remember anything?

I recall it all
Your tousled hair
And my forbidden grin
I think you live in Wisconsin
Filomena Aug 2022
Have you met Ophelia?
I saw her at the bank
Withdrawing all her interest.
And if I may be frank,

It seemed none could appeal to her,
And as she stacked her notes
Her visage had the look of death.
I hope her asset floats.
Psych ward poetry.
Set 3, poem 53.
Inspired by a book I was given
by an anonymous staff person.
riri Jan 2022
preparing months for an exam
for a number that supposedly determines your worth
******* up to teachers, people you don't even like
just for them to hopefully write a few commendable words about you

all for the hopes of being deemed "acceptable" to some supposed authority
for a place that will decide what you'll be doing for the rest of your life
making these drastic decisions at the age of 18
when not too long ago you were just picking out your prom dress

listing down any type of hobby or recreation you have
to make yourself seem a little more unique
since the competitiveness between you and your peers is sharper than a knife
who will make the final cut in the end and be deemed worthy?
that's all we do. that's all we've been doing for years as a society.
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