A Poem by Gabriel Ojeda-Sague

Author: Poetry Editor

January 10, 2018

This week, a poem by Gabriel Ojeda-Sague.

from Jazzercise Is A Language

Again: queen of spades: missive: tower of glass

Again:  I  miss  an  old  friend:   another  killing:  the
sickness that sinks below the teeth:  I  hold onto my
problems  like  a  pile  of  fish:  slipping out onto my
shoes:  I  want  a  remote that changes the direction
of   my   toes:    an  adjustable  brace  to  change  the
circumference at the wide end of my head:  a  lever
to  pull  my  spine  tighter: “loss,” as Judi says, is the
state of having something from your hands become
wild:   we   meet   between   counts:   center   of   the
afternoon

Again:  the  sound  of  a  body  being  thrown  to  the
ground: four on the floor

——

GABRIEL OJEDA-SAGUE is a Miami <-> Philly gay, Latino Leo living in Philadelphia, PA. He is the author of the poetry books Jazzercise is a Language (The Operating System, 2018) and Oil and Candle (Timeless, Infinite Light, 2016). He is also the author of chapbooks on gay sex, Cher, the Legend of Zelda, and anxious bilingualism.