happy belated bless you
Lemmy Ya’akova
this morning I said the mourner’s
kaddish for decapitated toddlers,
put cinnamon in my coffee,
called myself a god, placed
an imaginary cup in front of
him who said, “the cinnamon
is a nice touch” I replied,
“you keep forgetting
I’m a genius” I’m delusional
that’s how I’m full of stories
so what of it? so what
if I want a cigarette or two?
and what’s wrong with wanting
keeping a safe place safe?
I’m still a child of the crab grass
but now someone else looks
for me in the crowd
tell me: how do * you * eat
a pomegranate? it’s
2am dinner now
I’m thinking of my friend
who is as dead as the toddlers,
find myself in a pile
of thirst, nose running,
wondering which side
of my hand is the back of it
LEMMY YA’AKOVA couldn’t stop writing poems if they tried. Curious about their dreams and the surreal, their poems aim to transport the reader into a slanted reality where grief marries humour. Their first book, Overflowing The Tub, comes out February 2024 with Night Gallery Press. Born in Pontiac, Michigan, they currently reside in Chicago, Illinois where they care for their son, Moose, who is a cat.