THREE POEMS by TYLER ANTOINE
1
the space underneath what
some might refer to as my
acrylic nails (despite how
real they are to me) smells
like egg and cheese
I am debit carding kief across
a weed tray bearing my likeness
to greet 2 pm
my eyes feel like a Jack-o’-Lantern’s—
punched face-first circa November third
as my fingers drag down the feed
for a reason to feel hungry
there are so many people in this
world that owe me so many favors
it’s ridiculous
but no matter how many times
my misery’s phantoms
take bite at their ankles
I’m just not really convinced
that I’m being heard
at least not the way I imagined
when I was a kid
so what do I do but gaze
and see what words shout back?
and that’s what I hold
that’s what I put in my pocket and
take with me as I stroll down
seventh, a selfie stick circa 2013
featuring a travel-sized ring light
helping me make way
through the hordes of fuckboys
who walk with a clamor
who glance with a knowing
and I myself the opal
that makes their eyes shine in kind
oh what a marvelous life it is
to be the loudest ghost in the room
to make gander of the cows
grazing lazily in the field I like to call
my vision
the panopticon is my boyfriend
and we’re going steady
you have no idea how angry I can be
and how easy it is for me to get there
you have no concept of what I mean
when I say I’m going live
my favorite thing about the
word demonstrably is how it
kinda sounds like monster
and my favorite part of a
documentary is the part
concerning troubled childhood
I had a dream once:
I was a palm tree in a tropical storm
and my neck bent elegantly
it leaned just so
but I’ve always been partial to gusts of nothing
slam my coconut head against the Empire State Building
because I’m not going anywhere
I don’t even know what that word means
but I might fuck around
find out
etc.
like for part two
comment what you think
come over when I’m lonely
and lock the door behind you
watch the Comedy Central Roast
of Justin Bieber and hit
my pen until you’re scared
lean over and see my face as I say my name very slowly
and watch the light drain from the day as I pull in very closely
and say a quiet kiss goodnight
as the window finally closes
2
take your shitty ass to bed
new sad new york
mercedes-benz parts
logging off from afternoon dot com
a glass tumbler
left on the side of an empty sink
half club soda and
half new amsterdam
full blue light shining mostly everywhere
slipping in the cracks of the pillowcase
where dawn makes dreams stupid
and me, dressed to the tens
for my sleep paralysis demon
super-sume my dreams with the bedroom dresser
there’s a face in every knot of wood
faded light-up glow lamp
ancient carpet matted with dust
I’ll brush my teeth against any plaster that bites
dust on the duvet
dust in the sunset
night coming earlier
than maybe ever
night is baby
please let me hold him
let me pass him around
keep him up until morning
baby watches TV
all night long
watching ghost hunters all night long
counting down from 43 minutes
all night long
see I’ve always loved
the hum of a flat screen
and baby loves the way
light glows in the dark
3
tell me where
do you plant
your roses now?
in some days where we grew
like weeds in the wind?
I wonder if the soft
boys still illuminate the
room in the shadow of
your mother at the top
of the stairs telling you
about the yard work
about the empty days
that time steals when
we look away
take promise in what today
won’t bring, I think of
flowers in a desert storm
angry nothings coming
home from college
I hope this wish was a good trip
I think it’s all about an experience
gazing at your face
in the pale vodka moonlight
shared whatever of a
luminal nothing, what
sound does a cow make
when it falls in the forest?
does it sound like somebody
sounds when they’re
saying they’re sorry?
Tyler Antoine (he/him) lives outside Wilmington, Delaware. You can find previous example of his writing in the tiny, Bedfellows, Painted Bride Quarterly, and elsewhere. Most recently, he is featured in the film Systems Research, releasing from Consumer Grade Video this spring.