2 Poems by Kenyatta JP Garcia

Kenyatta JP Garcia




In Which To Sleep

who can say what nature intended? everything artificial had its roots in something seen as more natural. what course nature takes is its to choose and what will become of the artificial will always be made room for in nature.

*

when I say we sometimes I mean I and the voices I’ve heard or the voices I’m searching for. and sometimes when I say us, you can join in. and sometimes when I say you, I can’t imagine who I’m thinking of. and sometimes when I say they, it’s about me. and sometimes when they don’t like it, I revert back to I and start again.

*
around here in there
swagger
stagger
drunk
tipsy
wink/nod
flirt
*

what was that Stagger Lee story about again? I just remember lots of folks ended up dead. some days I don’t wake up feeling like myself unless myself is tired in which case then I do feel like myself.

I guess
it’s all
I can do
*

this is the kind of world a tapeworm should enjoy. there are too many intestines to not enjoy it. if only we could find such excitement in being stuck inside another’s guts.

*

this might be my bed but I’m still not home and where have you been?

all my life and all the hours of the night feel so manufactured right now. none of it can be real. I think nature skipped over me.

*

timber was the telltale word heard as the trees began to fall. fore was the foreboding warning as clubs launched balls over grass.

*

I think you know something I don’t. in fact, I’m sure you do. your thoughts are a world I’ll never know or are they? where have I been lately? anywhere good? wait, don’t tell me. your thoughts are yours. my house is your house but that’s only until you find someplace better to rest. is there such a place? can it be done? I wouldn’t know, I didn’t. but in one time, at its inception, we shared a false construct in which to sleep.


Sincerely

Dear X,

It’ll be my loss. Don’t think twice. This isn’t a ploy. No passive aggressive tactic. I know a loss when I let something go.

In rage against the sea, even Cuchulainn failed.

Efforts are as worthless as these or any words previously used. These too have little value but they’re not meant to mean anything in particular so in liberty written, freedom is given of which no worth can be assigned to equal the cost spent in its attaining.

Born into white space, these feelings are just as empty.

I have nothing else to say but at least this much has been written.

Sincerely,

Y


Kenyatta JP Garcia is the author of the epic trilogy: ROBOT, Yawning on the Sands, and Past and Again. Their most recent ebook is Playing dead. In addition, Garcia is the founder of ALTPOETICS and is also an assistant editor at Horse Less Review. All books/ebooks are available at: amazon.com/author/kjpgarcia