juanightstand

[juanightstand]

butterfly

delicate wings

— flapping to your

heart’s content, like bats

off at sunset. like hands fumbling

in a dark cave, made for a different

beauty, flying away — perched

truthfully, sometimes on

a budding flower but

always earnestly

still

[juanightstand]

Incantation

In the outskirts of Kaoshiung

lies the Mother Buddha.

Say it with her:

Hou-ho-xiu-yi, si-sei-wu-ma

The spirits are gone. She was finally ready

after six years, but the trauma instilled forever;

her daughter was a gift from the foster home,

until she was no longer.

When do mothers become burdens?

What is so wrong with keeping the past hidden —

if all that she longs for

is waking up beside her daughter, even

if she is sick and bedridden?

Blamed for timing: too slow for rain,

Accused of excessive longing: too much tears,

Grief is what everything feels.

If only the light could be seen

on the other side of the forbidden tunnel.

So do not wonder why there are runes

on the nape of your neck, your forearms

or both of your cheeks because a mother's pain is

permanent; the runes become tattoos,

so share this curse, even if you have been fooled.

[juanightstand]

One-night Stand Robbery

Outside the dirty bathroom stall,

You relentlessly squeeze my ass like it's Thanksgiving,

Inhaling the Viktor & Rolf on my neck in the hall.

The door is ajar and on the ground is my shawl,

I pull out your manhood in all of its sagging

Inside the dirty bathroom stall.

Doggy-paddling, on the floor I crawl,

You reach for my purse as we're fucking,

The Viktor & Rolf perfume falls.

"We don't need a condom," I bawl,

My wallet is on your hand as you're cumming,

Robbing me in the dirty bathroom stall.

You pull out; I smash my tits at you, and call,

"Security, he's on the run! Come and bring

his Viktor & Rolf scented balls!"

Alas, the hoodlum was nowhere to be found at all,

I shall be deemed the greatest victim of love bombing.

Outside the dirty bathroom stall,

mourning my lost Victor & Rolf haul.

[juanightstand]

We Survived

"Stay," Murph’s voice echoes in my ear, hands on the steering wheel, through the wheatfields, fumbling uncontrollably in fear, unknowing of the year that would mark my return to this earth; in spite of all odds, Tom will become an engineer, I say that wholeheartedly; I manifest, that humanity will coalesce, and survive

Through the wormhole, twenty seconds becomes twenty years, yesterday was just earlier this morning, and next evening feels like light-years away when everything I’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in my hands, ears and lips numb; my daughter aged the age I promised I'd return, still in a spaceship traveling to the hitherto unknown; infinity in the palm of our hands, eternity in an hour, love in a wild flower:

Perhaps another planet? With Dr Mann, everything became broken in retrospect until Brand subject me to oxygen and the grief starts to fill my lungs like water, more fit for gills; but my lungs are filled with memories and all that breathes for me is hope; love, when would you suffice? when would hunger that gnawed at our bones strike, I do not know, because I

never asked for this but not even light could escape this monstrosity of a whirlpool in the fifth dimension; voice becomes hoarse because no matter how loud I scream at myself, I depart over and over, Murph asks me to stay. But the monstrosity of the fifth dimension also became salvation, ejected me home; I close my eyes and I'm suddenly at Saturn, and it seems humanity survived.

...but where is Brand?