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TRACY DIMOND

 

GET OUT / GET OUT / GET OUT / GET OUT / GET

 

after Clifton Gachagua’s “On a Terrace Balcony in Abuja”

DJ, think about our songs in the 21st century.
Say, don’t hate the player, hate yourself
because that’s a definable state.

Dating rocks is a complex process. So is dating
rockers. It’s okay, I’ll keep using my credit card
until the academy updates the system.

Scientists report that increasing skirt-size
increases the risk of breast cancer.
Who says poets don’t make sense?

There is this myth about noble hobbies
with which I disagree. Art isn’t for looks.
If you want to be a mermaid, buy a mermaid tail.

I always remember coffee, but breakfast is so hard.
Adulthood is deciding which system to buy into,
but I’m still searching for shooting stars.

I can’t see constellations through clouds and smog,
though a tar roof feels like sand under socks.
Sometimes it's nice to sit outside and not be seen.

I don't think violence will fix anything.
No daisies grow from my anus, but I still believe in
sun and I’m looking for a way to invite you in.

 

 

 

 

Tracy Dimond co-curates Ink Press Productions. She is the author of I Want Your Tan (Ink Press 2015), Grind My Bones Into Glitter, Then Swim Through The Shimmer (NAP 2014) and Sorry I Wrote So Many Sad Poems Today (Ink Press 2013), winner of Baltimore City Paper’s Best Chapbook. Her poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in The Nervous Breakdown, Fact-Simile, BarrelhousePinwheelSink Review, and other places. Find her online at tracydimond.tumblr.com.