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JoJo Nguyen Oct 2018
(I came into a Stagg Street bathroom.)

There're only two-- the shared one in the hall and in a master bedroom.
Our shared lid was down, and spotted with a yellow accident realized.

(I sopped up the mess, and dropped spilled Toilette Paper into flushing water.)

Why is there a Vietnamese renter sitting in the bathtub?
Was he trying to crap in the tub?
We talked and he said the toilet was stuffed, but it wasn't.

Ta Ree's bathroom looks out onto the pool.

(I shut the bathroom door and locked it with that weird turning lock, and looked at the pool, another inside room.)

(I see a slender hand.)

We adjusted our dreaming angle, and it turned into a young Ta Ree.
She had on a remote face, already detached from us.
Under slumber's possible tendrils, a small smile appeared on her face, connecting my Inside with our outside.

(I laughed; She was still with us.)
Ylzm Apr 2019
I do not like jarring jagged poetry
Words scattered on the page saying nothing
Stagg'ring, stumbling, disjointed, blabbeing
From image to incoherent image
Splashes of colour, scattered at random
Slurred, the drunked's, or drugged's, speech or drivel.
Not all art is art, nor madness, madness,
The Spirit is One, and Beauty affirms.
Rhea Nov 2020
What is this feeling
I feel when I share
My inner turmoil
Hanging in the air

I want a smoke
A heedy drag
A firm packed bowl
Or stiff red stagg

Anything in arms reach
To smother the nameless
Insidious belly ache
And make a false oasis

Ah I see its vague outline
Hidden in angst and fear
Expected disappointment
Shame emerges clear

Hello lovely old friend
Put your cold hand here
Entwine your clammy fingers
In my helpless ones Dear.
John Bartholomew Aug 2024
Sometimes I look and its quite hard to tell
If Thomas was made a boy from it's creators at Mattel
As my daughter likes to drape him in a ***** black dress
Whilst Bluey and Bing both look on, quite simply unimpressed
His plastic heart now pounding, like the bell that is Big Ben
What have you done to me, from Stagg onto a Hen
From GI Joe onto a wide eyed dough
What places can I travel, to avoid the dollys that I know
Please take away this blouse and redress my leather jacket
Whack back on my 501's, because, as a girl,
I really could not hack it,
Sorry

JJB
#FreedomforThomas
JoJo Nguyen Jan 27
Happy rain
black Stagg

In the reverse time
In the science
In the doublespeak

We listen
to Noise
to Hear
the Song

backwards

To the beginning
To the Garden without Eve
To the Gethsemane night

We voice
Our bitterness
We embrace
Our Joy

Soon I'll be three again
playing
Forever you'll be thirty
teaching

Love
At the beginning
Before the Noise
The bitter song for this poem is "Tutto il resto è noia" by Franco Califano.
It is a blend of multiple emotions and thoughts.
JoJo Nguyen Apr 29
Breakfast for Mom
and I, then a garage sale

From the French garer
A shelter

We're selling or giving
away our old shelter

Stagg St is up for sale

This is a good thing
Cuz lately I'm down
whenever I'm there

A shelter
A garer
A garage

Mostly we store
accumulated shït
from Pigs on the Wing

Mostly I remember
us with nothing
but each other

And we were happy.
Or? Are my memories
gaslighting

Le mie zie
Two are gone
I miei zii
One is gone

It's 2025

April showers, a Sweet-season'd
"Come le dolci piogge alla terra"

The passing rain changes our Face
"Come alla terra le dolci piogge di primavera"

Are we becoming Literals?
Thus Poetry Month ends

"Cosi mi sazio o faccio penitenza
tutto divoro oppure resto senza"
My pronouns are he/him but maybe I write like a she/her?
Am I becoming us, or changing to them?

— The End —