3 Poems

Static baby

This is the life,
after death
Pick up

the phone on
The 3rd ring of the
2nd try

And hang up
“He’s dead”
Answering in her voice

Doubled and tripled back
With bloodied blouse
And ringing ears

This is the life after death
The line

is asleep
Not dead

Static is an active pattern
Not dead
Just goes
Just going

I wanna be something

That people look at
And say
“That thing is small and soft and we must keep it safe”

That’s what I wanna be
I’m so desperate.

Touch me like You lie to me,
Gently.

I’m tired of feeling like a handgun Held with the intent of violence Waiting for an outburst,
An explosion.

Please, open a velvet glove
Around me.
Why do all dolls like to be broken
Are we really all that predictable.
With that vinegar on your lips

Kiss me.

There is a special power
In lying to yourself

Im looking up the rules
To bull fighting again
Its just natural and cruel
Masculine in in its artistry

You can only hurt me if I let you

Thats the special power
You’re me again
Slower this time

Slow and hard
Slow and hard

Smoking or non-smoking
Man and superman

The haves and have nots

I don’t
know whose bed this is
I only get lonely when no one is around.

Mai VV Bell is a southern poet who writes about the body and what it dreams. @worldsworstfem on Twitter.