I can’t stop reading Ana Carrete’s ‘Baby Babe’.
i sat at the foot of my bed for ~20 minutes
i put my hands in my mouth
i touched my gums and my teeth and
i touched my tongue
sometimes i do that because i like the sound
and other times i do it because i need to know
what teeth are
i’m sorry for all the times on my porch
i’m sorry i brought up other boys
I’m sorry i talked about outerspace all the time
i hope you lay in your bed tonight and
cough up your heart onto those grey jersey sheets
i hope you choke on the memory of my exposed lungs
when you pulled me open at the sternum and
brushed the tangles out of my ribs
i wish i could build a lake big enough for me to sleep in
Hello friends! I have published another book of poems, called “Haunted Hotel”. i wrote these all today, so it’s relatively short. It would be much appreciated if you read it, but if you do and it’s not your cup of tea, that’s okay as well! I love you! Your mom loves you! Puppies exist!
thank you for your time
I first came across Casey Ashman’s writing while (what else?) surfing the “alt lit” tag on tumblr, and I was immediately struck with the fragility and emotional depth of her writing. Casey recently published an ebook, I Don’t Know if You Panic on the Phone, and she agreed to talk about it…
Just did an interview— how exciting! This feels so official!
A Failed Attempt at Projecting My Adoration Into The Written Word
~thank you i am here
i imagine us sitting in the laundry room without shirts on
you laugh at me when i say “i don’t care about poems that aren’t about love”
(even though i’m laughing as well, and not really serious about that statement)
i imagine reaching out to touch your hair and say “boys are idiots”
and in earnest, you’re an idiot.
but so am i. I’m not a boy, i mean,
but i am quite the dunce.
ha ha ha
once you told me it was okay to be fragile and breakable, because I’m “mortal”
but then i just giggled nervously and said “but i’m not real at all”
and this whole poem is really only about the rainsong of your hips
and the words you say without making a sound, really.
i am sorry that i like you better than my own butt.
i am sorry that you aren’t eating sandwiches with me in my bed right now.
i am sorry the lines of this poem aren’t long enough to connect our fingertips.
i think, really most of all, i apologize for knowing that no line, no stanza or limerick
could get me as close to you as i need to be.
you’ve drawn sonnets on me without ever being within 17 feet of my body.
i remember you
stumbling into my room,
inebriated to the point of bizarre courage.
you stood by the door and stared at me,
nodded a few times and whispered to yourself,
i know how Ophelia felt.
"o, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown"
a consequence of crippling silence
i just saw a scary movie.
i’m home alone now and every noise makes me jump
a towel just fell off the rack
and i screamed.
so now i’m sitting at the kitchen table
remembering you laying behind me,
watching 8 Mile,
and laughing at Eminem’s nose.
i told you about all the things your lips reminded me of,
like how when they moved all i heard
there are 1232 species of bats.
i am afraid of all of them.
watching you makes me think
makes me think about what’s really important:
the ringing in my ears that night,
after you left out the door;
how i called my sister,
told her to drive safe because the roads are icy
and i loved her,
and i hoped she was having fun.
and when she hung up, i whispered into the darkness
beneath my blankets,
"i will never put my own pieces back together."
i slept abnormally well that night.
i’m warming my hands with the steam from this tea.
also thinking about acrobats and circuses,
and this book i read once about water and elephants.
elephants are really cool and big,
i mean, how can you not fall over,
you’re so gigantic.
if i was ever that big, i feel like i’d try to
tie my shoe or something and just topple right over.
that’s a weird thought.
i don’t think i’d very much like being big.
"I’m laughing into the anthill of you"
i am an ant
i have crawled into your bed
and i am so small
that you squish me,
and you never even
you never think about
how heavy your shoulder is
when it’s crushing my tiny .0003g
i am special because
i can swallow 8 pills at once.