Four Poems

Lily Lady

odd lots

left handhold on ludlow — everything

tremendous

in my femme drag

playing the role / doing the bit

what do drugstore plastic nails say

about human nature?

trading on derivatives

of lolita — what am i

if not a man’s creation?

i heart NY keychains shine

under year-round twinkle lights

is there anything more beautiful

than a fake christmas tree?

December, New York

I am not my best self

At the Apple Store in Williamsburg

The morning J train

Smells like bacon egg & cheese

Lately I won’t leave the house

For under 2k meaning I don’t leave much

On the table

I crush prescription ibuprofen

Under a Lisa Frank pocket knife, generic

These press on nails

These fake diamonds

— I’ll do anything to avoid pain

I don’t hear anything Anjali says

At the end of our therapy session

New phone buzzes in my pocket

I’ve never been a pro

At multitasking

I shake my ass

To the DJ on TV

In the Dekalb Airbnb

Dejan says you’re so good

At dancing

I feel myself

Thickening

It’s the porcini dumplings

I’m stuffed with

Adultery, the keeper

Of secret biographies

Scheming & plotting

The walk home

No scarf first snow

Cheeks raw in the body electric

Walt Whitman wrote

The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them

It’s sickening

working again

in the jelly shoes in the romper in the 1950s cobalt lingerie in the rainbow mesh wrap dress

in the via 57 west in the garbutt house in the super8 off the highway in the holiday inn

in the french tips in the lavender lotion in the megaslicks lip balm in the silver hoops

in the edition hotel in the refinery hotel in the baccarat hotel in the dominick hotel

in the online ad in the whatsapp chat in the telegram group in the burner thread

in the warwick hotel in ivan’s castle in the soho house in the beverly hills hotel in the marriott

in the zone in the zone in the zone in the zone in the zone in the zone in the zone in the zone

On Being (a bad person)

You fly tomorrow 8am

JFK to LAX

are you going

to take a helicopter

or UberX to the airport?

alarm set for 5

I fold into you

you fold into me

airplane mode

cardio breath

let’s stop

before the finish line

New York is so complicated

not enough space, my phone’s

always dying

your body

isn’t mine

let’s play

7 minutes in heaven

it’s just a sleepover, honest

honestly why does everything

have to be so serious all the time

You’re in the sky

I’m still in bed

instagram selfie

jet blue first class

coconut water, extra leg room

you deserve it

I lace my running shoes

run off the NyQuil

on the Hudson River path

old stomping grounds

Goldman Sachs

breeder dogs & nut allergies

In the shower

back at your townhouse

I make a mental note to text you

great water pressure on the third floor

love you

send neither

don’t know what you look like in LA

but I’m defrosting the raw venison

you left

to feed Jean

the way it makes me smell

I love

my hands

like crumpled up hundreds

I rub them on my cheeks

hope the oil fills my pores

I comb my fingers through my hair

in your SpaceX shirt

the one they gave you

on the zero gravity flight

in your woolen socks,

in the height of summer

I put the thermostat at 62

the energy bill

is higher when I’m around

you won’t mind

I wait

for the delivery boy

you’ve ordered my favorites

the vegan yogurt, it’s hard to find

peaches, sun dried tomatoes

pitted olives

last night on replay

our 7 minutes are almost up

our 7 minutes are never up

burn this

Lily Lady is an artist from New York City. Lily's full length collection quickie is available through dream boy book club (2022) and their chapbook BREAD is through Bottlecap Press (2023).