BLUE HOT ROD
they won’t notice us at night
leather collar turned up
humming the song of dead wolves
— whoever yr people are supposed to be,
a high priestess guided us here
w/ sage leaves & secret liquor
a nectar worth selling tongues for
but no, i promise,
they won’t notice us at night
forgetting to send texts,
thinking of wearing animal horns
sweaty summer apparitions waiting
our skin stuck to yr car seats
no texting where are you?, only
humming into the blackness.
*
STAIRWAY WIT
tell me a fantasy again:
in which beautiful girls
turn into even more beautiful horses
then, they all scatter
like cards
or, pressing you
against the doorframe
on tiptoes
my chin near your teeth
b/c i want your ex-lover to see
b/c there’s a spark
needling at my mind
i want you to watch me
shudder in a dancer’s
costume like a porcelain doll
spinning, eyes closed
i’m pulsing,
always dizzy.
*
RACE CAR DRIVER
put the cigarette in the ashtray
place our desire on the rocks glass rim
leave yr stories on my shoulders
my body waits: thick & full like water
everything is all pretty in dreams
so i turn to you, stealing
your half-finished cigarettes
i don’t smoke
yes, i do / no i don’t
always for you
light them for me
so you can see my slick
vaseline lips
open them wide
so i can take something
bigger than rose petals
i want to catch you staring
i want to be naked in your bed
i want to not remember falling asleep
i want my arms to ache under your palms
let’s get out of this place.
*
STRANGE HONEY: A SPELL
take a song from a wave echo
honor the tiny soul-voice animals
take yr bicycle down to the end
to the street that winds with salt air
the gulls told you so,
this is not the time for you to speak
you are the curled woman
blindfolded eyes, gold ring nose
trace yr midwestern lover’s teeth shape
hold one quartz in each palm
keep the purple record in yr ears
your house catches a hurricane
still, you move on.
*
TEEN PSYCHIC
the spirits still wanted to know what’s up. they’ll speak, if you leave enough coffee out. put a crystal under your pillow. we’re talking metaphysical dreams here. they sing a hummingbird feast: closed eyes & yes, they’ll watch you in the bedroom. they won’t tell you much for sure. you know it’s true. they give good advice b/c they can’t fix their old mistakes. i would ask andy warhol but he talked a lot & there wasn’t enough credit on my phone. we had a seance outside jayne mansfield’s house once & i thought that i heard her say yes.
*
Stephanie Valente’s waiting for the end of the world takes places between the world of the living and the dead. Inspired by the major arcana tarot cards, the poems explores the unstoppable forces of urgency, love, sex, desire, longing, and identity.
Click to obtain WAITING FOR THE END OF THE WORLD, BY STEPHANIE VALENTE.
