TWO POEMS by KOADA
full clip
rifle through top drawer
find perfect loose leaf
gasoline beneath satin
skirt—i remember a text
i’m in love.
i want to fucking die.
i caught an Automatic.
don’t know how to be a serious
boy—only how to play & pour
maple syrup into bullet casings
you can load shoot delete
delete delete delete delete delete
dresser top magazines- pricey
bump stock perfume beauty
blender with sum ooze glitch
i want to look pretty for you
simply can’t Excel spread
sheet yourself in the head
ping my chest on the halo UI
settings hold every answer
woven into fiber optic heart
valve prone to physical damn
age corn husk slip dress curse
i like when i feel dumb
with you
it’s me i can feel it
it’s me i can feel it
delete delete delete delete delete
manual save slot face
manual overwrite tongue
delete delete delete delete delete
automatic transmission fluid
swap soil on our knees catch
future in a pearl snap spittoon
every clip you finger deft
makes me a serious boy.
veblen good
social status succulent
you’re so easy to water
pearl drop tendrils droop
as candy as cavity as
your soil whirlpools thorn
less pathetic cruelty
i desert drink my sweat
become fat puma languid
on your porch prowl
for thump of breast
robin flutter twill
in my drool paws.
we want to kill birds.
we preen.
it is a dimming.
still i lose water
to piss on your dare
that i’ve claimed you
hate my moisture how
i’m eager to lose it
all for a pounce.
Koada is an uncultured, angry hick from Montana who somehow managed to squirm their way into the Iowa Writers' Workshop, where they are pretty much in a constant state of rage. they study poetry, but they're primarily obsessed with studying how to dismantle every perceived threat of authority, real or imagined. they have no publications to boast about because they've only recently begun their writing career.