Piss
I didn’t own a Ouija board until I was much older
but I peed myself often.
Not accidentally but on purpose,
mostly in the shower
or in the car
driving.
That warmness was my blanket,
the kind of warmness I felt love could be.
I wanted demon lovers,
ones that would take over me,
indulge on my insides.
The kind that would tell me,
“don’t be afraid of looking ugly my love, they’ll still want you.”
…and inside that old condo
I lived next to a mortuary.
I’d see the dead come and go,
families crying,
friends…
I’d sneak over,
put my cheek against the open doors
indulging in indole and nicotine,
stealing flowers,
smashing them in my favorite books
like some still-born
in the crevices of The Rosy Crucifixion: Sexus, Plexus, Nexus.
When they’d leave to gamble in Vegas
they’d leave me alone in that old condo
and the lights would begin to flicker
and the blinds would fall.
If I was downstairs,
I could hear the stomping of heavy-feet above me.
So I’d creep up the stairs, lights on
and it’d be empty,
no one there,
just me and that Ouija board.
I’d place my ringed fingers on the planchette,
like piano keys,
and ask who was there.
“Who are you, tell me your name?”,
balcony door open,
a windy California night made for fires,
cigarette between my lips,
warm air like a heater,
and he’d answer…
“Satan.”
VHS
I gave my money to some kid whom i had never met
waited
waited
waited looking through those pesky blinds
waiting for him to show up
with that blood powder
1 a.m.
2 a.m.
3 a.m.
3:33 a.m.
bright light shone
illuminating Willow Street
Jefferson Airplane’s Today pulsed through curtains
the light slowly faded into a hovering disk of portholes
looking down my cerebellum
felt my waiting
fed me its light
wondered why no cars passed
why the streetlights were off
no dogs barked
no sirens
felt my eyes film over
Bjork throwing things off
no regrets
heart thrumming in a loop
white rabbit
larger…smaller
so I asked Alice
as my nose bled…
no answer,
he never came
DVD
3:33 a.m.
he’s here
heavy hands lost on me
soft beard
an ornament
on my mouth
#1 Crush plays behind traffic
(i would burn for you)
there’s love in his shadow
(feel pain for you)
his weight on my breasts
i can’t breathe
(i would twist the knife and bleed my aching heart,
and tear it apart)
pulls my legs above my head
thrusts himself inside me
hard and heavy
he can’t help it
(you’re just like me)
Web
pets require attention
and mine left like an open cage
but my parrot didn’t need much upkeep
and Walter was my best friend and he knew I loved him
on those volcano hikes he knew
even when i left with packed bags he knew
we’d run around our mother’s dresses when the circus came
paint our faces like panthers
pounce on tables
walk on all fours
share mangoes
share silences
on my 21st birthday
I got handed a puppy on one hand
i felt the warmness of its fears on my hand
it slept in my bed
shit on my carpet
smile when i’d come home late
her tail whipping on the white walls
I named her Anaïs
she was honey-coloured
and danced in circles come Christmas
when grandpa died
we inherited his dog
and all i could think was
how we’d make room for him
but he fit in
arthritic and tame
only bit one person
so I’d knew to stay away from them
but like all beautiful and salient things
he died
and Anaïs died
i’m still not dead
but one day
I will be,
until then,
I require attention
Processed with VSCO with b5 preset
Ingrid Calderon is a Salvadoran refugee residing in Los Angeles. Her work has been printed in Dryland, Anti-Heroin Chic, Occulum, Bad Pony, Moonchild Mag & Gut Feelings Zine among others…Guilty of three full-length poetry books entitled ‘Things Outside’, ‘Wayward’ & ‘Zenith’. You can find her on Twitter @BrujaLamatepec