Bring Out The Fine China


It felt nice seeing old
Friends happily
Disappearing into a beautifully
Constructed nightmare

Meanwhile back in your place
For the fifth time this month
I fell asleep
Laughing hysterically while
The room was on fire

It all happened so fast
you slipped my hand
Under your dress
And I gave you access
To my Netflix account

You were fucking beautiful
Until you weren’t

You’d always say
There’s no love
When we drink too much
When we dream
Too little
When all we seem to do is fuck
In public
Bathrooms
And text each other pink
Heart emojis

 

Let’s Take A Selfie

 

Blood always
Taste better splattered
On the dance floor

Slightly intoxicated
Under a pink disco ball

Where your distress
And misfortunes meet its maker,
Bacardi

A beat appears and
Another follows suit
Causing the herd
To conjure and conjoin
And make questionable
Life decisions

Along for the ride, I
Toss my blue
Collar out,
Reach for my
Phone, and
Take selfies with
Bae

And I do it
All while looking
Tragically sexy
In cheap cologne
Damaged eyes
And cutoff Levi jeans

 

Everything Sounds Better On Vinyl

 

I’m not sure how I got here
It was most likely a pathetic night as per ush’
Eating vanilla ice cream
On an empty twin bed
While watching the two pretty actresses
On the computer screen
Eating each other out

I am one hundred and
Sixty-nine point seven per cent sure
This is what sparked it
I took another dig on an empty human
With basic taste in music

I’d blame mom and dad for this
But I’ve come to the conclusion
That that is for pussies
And besides, there’s nothing wrong
Raising your kid knowing how to groove

And baby do I know how to groove
Igroove so hard I once buried my heart
Somewhere in an old lover’s backyard

With a hole right in the middle
Punctured by red stilettos
Hell will never know misery like I do
But I continue to hang my hopes high

Happily delusional for the girl
Who’ll eventually let me eat her ass out
While listening to Gershwin’s
Rhapsody in blue

 

Untitled

 

I’m currently lost inside my vicious
Madhouse walls
Which keep my thoughts
Warmly cuddled
Wait, that sounds too much

Like Bukowski
Let’s start over

I’m in my sanctuary
Being your typical
Obnoxious recluse

Eating Doritos like a basic
Emo bitch
But with a tastier soundtrack
Feeling numbed
Empty and
With nothing real
To offer

Like a mutilated and gutted
Ken Barbie doll
After having its face pressed against
A young careless
Curious cunt for half an hour

I keep thinking of what I
Should write about
The easiest route would be
To pick through some dirty
Textual exchanges I had
During the weekend with strangers
On Tinder

But I don’t feel like writing
About that
Instead I’m going to
Push everything to the side

Put on my favorite blue jeans
The tight ones that outline the crotch
Turn this frown around and
Call up the side piece
And ask if she’s down
To Netflix and chill

 

Magic

 

Maybe it is love
Or maybe it’s just New York
Crushing us down
Forcing us to face what
We’ve been running from

Tomorrow I’ll put on
A welcoming face
And dance in
A silent world

Covered in idle colors
Amongst weary faces
Clashing against
The waves of expectation

Whom eagerly and continuously attempt
To drown the magic
And I’ll trade away my bones to rot
For a simple yet
Incoherent pleasure

There’s a tune in my head
I can’t seem to shake off
And it goes like this

How I wish you’d fall in love with me
You talk about punk rock
And igniting a revolution
Impulsive children take the playground home
And shout vulgarities at each other
Like I love you

But all I wanna do is burn my insides
And eat some chicken
If we’re lucky we might start again
Hopefully on an unremarkable day
Amongst remarkable frowning dogs
Wagging their tails at the sight of spring

Maybe it is love
Or maybe it’s New York
Or maybe just maybe
It’s you and me

 

Omar Alexandre

@alexandre88

Omar is an award-winning filmmaker and writer from Miami, Florida. His first short film, Knowing, was accepted into three film festivals.  As a writer, he’s been selected as a finalist in the Adelaide Voices Literary Contest of 2018. Some of his poems have been featured in Horror Sleaze Trash, Juste Milieu, 48th Street Press 2018 Broadside Series and a few others.