Can't Resist My Own Poverty

Sometimes I eat flaming hot cheetos
just because I can. Then I make love
to her shadow instead of fondling her,
and I hold her shadow’s hand upon the wall.

I owe, I owe

much but I will not forget what’s mine
In the fridge, in my dumb, costly chest.
A spider pushes a leaf out of her web
repairing and damaging simultaneously.
It really is all that she has.

Disjecta

At the performance

      I touched the still body of a human being.

do not touch the artworks

          even if they’re alive?

Starting My Day Right

When my tooth was knocked out I started

eating breakfast;

            simple and weird as that.

Teach Me How to Name the Bigger Light

Sitting on Sauvie’s beach alone, your
old Hanes t-shirt over my hair—
my black head gets so hot—
I push little bugs into

the sand. Not to hurt them but
to see ‘em struggle a bit, easy.
I was put here to love others no
question but I’m remembering

how I used to feed my dog
frozen berries by slipping them
into her water bowl, she
loved strawberries but still

broke my heart, you know?
I’m looking past where the water
meets the sky I mean I’m trying
to name the bigger light.

Is This an Election Year?

I try coconut oil pulling
and ralph straight away into the sink.

Good things do not become me.
I walk immediately to the cafe

and order a coffee
I ask to be dead a little faster.

Phone rings and as usual
I refuse to heed the call.

There’s a little warm sun coming
through the dankly fug of early spring

this year could truly ruin me

Patricia No

Patricia No is a writer, editor, and publisher in Portland, Oregon. She is the co-founder of Publication Studio and is an editor at Weekday, an annual literary magazine.

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