three poems

by Piper Rasmussen

‍ ‍

Birth of The Queen

‍ ‍

The vision of a Queen appears (see also: milagro, fantasma)

‍as if from the center of a fluffy white cloud

(see also: oscurecida, desaparecida)

‍ ‍

a hatched idea,

‍fully-formed, Athene & gamine

‍ant-waisted (see also: corsetry in Spanish colonies)

‍ ‍

A crown of braided chitin

‍a hard, dark eye

‍mandibular sharpness (see also: obsidian)

‍ ‍

She wears with pride her

‍fine scarlet stockings,

‍ ‍

all six of her legs

‍shrouded with mist that’s been dyed

‍in her own fresh blood (see also: DIY, fiber arts, preservation techniques of the Andes)

‍ ‍

I am the one in the white mist

‍with vision obscured

‍ ‍

I can only tell what I see

‍textbook-laden (see also: anthropology of the 1950s)

‍ ‍

of this red-trousered ant

‍(see also: Pachamama, Casimira, Zulma Yugar)

‍in her infinite variety   (see also: Cleopatra)

‍ ‍

the margin note says: “See Me”

‍ ‍

My humility lives in my liver

‍ ‍

I know this because tonight

‍heading home from the bar

‍in my particular state of drunkenness

‍and youngness

‍and foreignlanguageness

every stranger’s half-heard comment

‍is about me. Or at least

‍ ‍

about my new native-looking

‍sweater-poncho thing

‍which I bought at the morning street market

‍and which still smells of

‍ ‍

someone else. Though I am

‍headed back to a temporary bed

‍to drink plastic bottles of water until I believe

‍I can survive tomorrow,

‍ ‍

locals are just starting the night

‍chatting at tables in my path:

‍ ‍

…¡Casi una nativa!...

…Uniforma…

…Más makeup en la bolsa –…

‍ ‍

and everything they say

‍is somehow about my face

‍and body which

‍is all that matters

‍about me –

‍ ‍

and I believe it all.

‍Must be because

‍my humble liver is busy

‍washing something out of me.

‍ ‍

OLSE (Other Languages for Speakers of English)

The romance of my languages has been

a set of slutty summers:

 

and so I must write badly,

disculpe,

sing, “[Disculpa]me Mucho”, &c.

 

My children are by many fathers.

and like many families

we are mutually unintelligible.

Todos, trebuie să spun

Я не понимаю

Una limba o otro.

 

Give directions alli, allá,

sometimes aquel or acollo

lost to quickdraw speech.

Chant, "da" at ze futbol game

and get a good laugh.

"Eres de alemania?"

Jaja, nein, pero…

 

Everywhere I go I seduce

another few words –

 

Commitment? Ah, no, sorry, I'm

Holly going lightly to Rome

 

just Ye Olde Amerikanke

understanding ja mata.

My only regret: the words I bring home

and neglect,

put to use & set loose,

ashamed

of their promiscuous mothering-tongue.

Photo of Piper Rasmussen

BIO: Piper Rasmussen (she/her)'s poems have appeared in Shot Glass Journal, Hare's Paw Literary Journal, Kyoto Journal, Writing The Land: Horizons, and others. She works from Manhattan, in spite of her cats' efforts. piperrasmussen.com

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five poems