2 poems, by puma perl

bunkers

I move through the country
from my bunker to yours
Nothing to do but get drunk,
fuck, and write poems
We stumble through the desert
half-naked, clothing shredded,
bodies torn and bleeding

Burn the boundaries
Tear down the gates
Trash the safe words
We talk in screams
of pain and ecstasy,
no difference anymore
between the two

Fuck me hard
Hit me harder
Make me know I’m alive
Don’t ask, just take
what is left
Everything we want is here
and all that we need is more

We never know the time
The moon shines
The sun rises
The light fades
We live in desert darkness
The air turns cooler
The mountains melt
Somewhere, pavements crumble
and everything is perfect.


all kinds of love

“There are all kinds of love”
he told me,
finishing his drink

It was 4AM, time to go

“Yes,” I agreed
The following morning
I woke up thinking
about all kinds of love

The luckiest people
select their loves
from smorgasbords
spread out before them

Others choose
from the five-dollar buffets
in strip malls
or settle for the cheapest
combination
on a Chinese takeout menu

These thoughts inspired me
to order sesame chicken
with an egg roll and fried rice,
a dish I hadn’t had in years

The chicken was crispy
and the egg roll was soggy
The fried rice was predictably
unexceptional

At least I can count
on something.

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