[Of barbershop pomade]
a man who
can't die
isn't tragic
like jesus
is totally untragic
like i want to be
magic —
the tragedy depends
on mortality
the sense of
an ending
dies if you can't
manage —
if you sit there
girlbossing Forever
[Will I ever think of someone who isn't a person?]
after C. X. Hua's "Going (Guest House)"
In the story I tell about myself
I belonged. To his mouth. To his vowels
& verbs & clauses. The epic butter of flowers,
mid-table. The vise grip. It was
something to be wanted
in the clutch's expectation.
In the vision of the room he enters.
He needn't even knock.
It is the room for which he labors.
Family values on mantles, framed.
The dead eyes of the doe above.
The dead eyes of does
have no questions.
Author's note: Both poems are titled by lines from Silvina Ocampo's The Promise
Alina Stefanescu was born in Romania and lives in Birmingham, Alabama. More online at www.alinastefanescuwriter.com.