Doug Roy, Monkey Business, Cut Paper
Only the blind can teach the blind
my dad won’t let me die on wednesdays
my dad won’t let me live on wednesdays
he wants to send my sister to a convent so she won’t kiss girls
he wants to send me to kill men in vietnam so I won’t kiss girls
my mom doesn’t know how to act and is silent
my mom is silent and all she can do is cook dinner
this dinner lasts forever
i want to cut this eternity
like cutting the silence of the night
like tearing birds from the sky
nobody knows what to expect from dad
nobody knows how to drink patient humility
pink darkness seeps into the house
and the house turned into a monster can’t spit us out again
the sky in the ceiling is colorless and stars are burning above the house
i joyfully believe that one day these stars will explode and destroy everything
_________________
Mykyta Ryzhykh
Review by Zeke Sanchez
Not sure of the “category” of this poem but it hits the mark with me. A sense of entrapment permeates the poem. Can’t die on Wednesday, but can’t live on Wednesday. Neither the poet nor the sister are allowed to kiss girls. There is a sense of being trapped/strapped by a strait-jacket. The mother’s silence is eternity and he wants to cut that eternity. There exists an enigma for me: Why is it a pink darkness that seeps into the house? Perhaps the sweet pink darkness is more dangerous than a frank, black darkness. A pink darkness perhaps is one of repression where dad won’t let you live or die.