Poems from Chebrya
My doctor says when everything feels suffocating
the issue is in my throat‒
“Too many words compressed in the trachea”.
He said it...
When the truth convulses your systolic rhythm.
Stay in your body
and wait frantically for the echoes in your voice box.
Let them move you...
In America, we also make sacrifice
The pigs, the cows
and calves,
the chickens, the fish,
the salmon burned on the altars of our Gluttony...
He’s from Phili, wantin’ to leave his folks and get away
‒white boy, real friendly.
She’s alone walkin’ to the ladies room wearin’ short...
Your speech‒paring knives‒
Could’ve cut away the carcass
in us, you know,
peeled back our fears,
sliced insecurities
to expose the inward...