But I am human & need to be loved just like ::
Shut your mouth & drive. Isn’t that your space-
ship parked outside (take me higher)? How soon is
—swept—
leg & sing tumbling
down Queens
Boulevard of eight lanes I
know better (the wrong way just like
everybody—)
& left it on the ground today,
this mass of mine seeping
& numbness & my neurologist won’t curse you
rabid skateboard
won’t name you
coward
when under floodlight examination
:: you do not appear ::
loyal & grieved.
. My love is—
another thing.
He does not believe in you & listens
for you in the dark. Never asks for proof
I cannot give him.
It’s hard to speak plainly
when they ask what you are.
They assume I am still all human
(need to be)
& not a war
(loved)
between the two.
That to become
yours is to lose
now that I write of our alien love in the dark.
No metaphors,
. no closet doors,
. when I say
I read love poems to an alien in the dark
& demand (how soon is) embrace.
Your kind does not do such things.
& sometimes it’s tempting,
to be a kind of new
to the universe.
But I am human
because I need
home & home
is giving each other
our blood & our bones & you
have neither
dearest wandering flash & fire—
Farewell. Best
wishes & kindest regards
of the fifth kind. I’ve already
waited too long & all my nerves are
centripetally yours
. singing ::
our starbird cry,
oh smashmouth
. oh cinder-
. block
. shine.
Rosebud Ben-Oni is a 2014 NYFA Fellow and a CantoMundo Fellow; her collection, turn around BRXGHT XYXS is forthcoming in 2019.