Two Poems by Gabby Gabby

today my life is directed by noah baumbach

i emailed you my poem.
you told me you wanted to read it.

i am bleeding over and onto myself.
i don’t want to wipe it up because it
i’m already missing a lot of parts.

it has been three days,
you still haven’t emailed me back.
i don’t know if that means you
hated my poem
or you liked it too much.

i sleep like a seasick sailor.
everything is familiar
but different from what I have
left behind.

tell me you want to slip
in my mouth.
sleep in between me
and a movie about pretentious
white college kids that will tell
us how to be outwardly indifferent
and inwardly sad for no particular reason.

they tell me to love you.
they tell me to wait.
when i come back from prague
you will be there waiting
with witty dialogue
and closing credits, right aligned.
this is what they tell me
in black and white.

in color i don’t have any witty dialogue.
i am not going to prague.
i don’t even have enough money
for metro tickets.
i am here and you are here.
you can’t miss me like i’m in europe.

you can’t worry about me fucking
hotter european guys
that chain smoke in tight shirts.

on the back of my hand i wrote
‘one day you will meet a bear
and he will eat you because he
is a bear’

i think somewhere deep down
everyone is really shitty.


eat the body of christ. eat my body.

walking into a crowded seminar room
turned choir confessional i sat down
toward the back confused about what
to do with my hands.

i found myself, for the first time in three
years, accidentally, in church.

that night i was all gospel politic and concerned
about the salvation of humming jays.
a night salesman.

i came to you as a night terror with news about the
impending apocalypse.
i spoke of four horseman, night warped and apologetic,
that took refuge in my hair.
they repelled down my tear roped face as a man
in a dress stood at the alter and told me a man
in the sky loved me.

he was crazy about me.
he was crazy.
he wanted me to write songs about him
and sing him to sleep.
he told me what to do with my hands.
he told me to stop putting them
down my pants.

i had never felt more wanted.

you, a choir bodied atheist, sang disbelief into my breasts,
ripped off my bible belt and performed long awaited
exorcism.

you told me what to do with my hands.
i had never felt more wanted.

washed clean.
washed clean.


Profile: Gabby Gabby

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