Positive Talking I sew a new field with salt. I open hands for new love, crystallized on tongue. fingernails mud-caked & scratching for forgiveness. each clean-cut is another blood-letting I’m not used to. pray each bead and swear that I’m holy & not coming back from destruction.
Where time suspends a body into perpetual sabotage, it’s not easy claiming a thought or saying it a million times, it’s sticky on the skin, I could cry over it, but that does no good, this was another abandonment I waited as we pulsed through a full-moon sentiment, attacking & attaching itself to thin-skin, I’m waiting at the shore of your recklessness, and I keep praying and praying and praying and praying and--
I believe the mirage was only a nightmare I hadn’t faced. If any sudden movements rattle you, come distract & pull seeds deeper. I’m not humoring this makeshift room, I’m not humoring brokenness or the hue of this chain all around. And if god says keep extinguishing, I’ll be here to build and build and build and build and--
A Good Son for me brother
No one else says I’m done, but time. Time is rubric & rule
Jaded am I for you take my power & freedom swallow it up The perfect immigrant’s son, aspiring doctor Decisions my strings in your hands Pull here pull there I’m up & awake & alive and nothing matters Except what is right in your eyes, my parents My children, my family name gold is my veil My shroud be proud of me now, tell me what to do next?
Hands tied with obedience Someone dipped me: trophy son This mispronunciation of my past my culture I am a baby crying, the mother & the father Someone right here in the room, silently observing what to do What made us blind I make no deals except with myself, hold the strings out untie these hands Take my hand except I will decide whom to marry, cut each finger bleed It out stand by wait for the sun, a dawning of each sober thought Collapse into an entirety of each movement of your proud son The model minority I will become.
Youth is Look back The rarity on holding to the sense of awe, presence of that sheer pleasure of life the vast possibilities, so apparent Collide Experience bleeds, exercise self-control Command our own knacks, our desires Orchestrating every moment of your life Lose sight of who you once were Dream Success threatening our limits myriads of thoughts Shedding innate curiosity.
ShawnAnto is from Delano, California. He’s originally from Kerala, India. He currently studies at Cal State Bakersfield looking to receive his B.A. in English & Theatre. He was last seen on stage in Dreamers: Aqui y Alla. Past theatre credits include The Profane, “Gasoline", and SubUrbia. His writing has been featured or are forthcoming in Reed Magazine, O:JA&L, Genre: Urban Arts, Mojave Heart Review, and elsewhere. He currently lives in Bakersfield with his mini-rex rabbit, Elio.