Someone No One Everyone Anyone
and I put all this blood in, but things just get sticky
No one’s a mess anyone
wants to pick up after, so I marched my ass down
to the shack that flashed
LIVE MODELS in red and asked if they needed
someone good with light.
Everyone was bronzed
and someone was covered in glitter.
“Here,” I said, “hold
lower” and motioned to someone
who shone a weird green
light too high
the shadows made everyone’s eyes onstage look
like pulsing suckholes.
Limbs in that angle
seem tentacled with darknesses.
I tsked, “That’s no way to shine a body.”
Paula Mendoza's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in PANK, elimae, and The Offending Adam. She has an MFA from the University of Michigan and currently lives in Austin, TX.
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