Apartment Poetry Quarterly

22A              22B              22C              22D              22E              22F

 

22C STEPHEN IRA

[PDF]

 

from MR STEPHEN

 

do you know who James Bond is                                      they gave him a new car

                                                                I don’t like it

it does not look good                                                                       the roof it’s too

                                                 the roof is too

(hands moving over                                                his head to my hip)

                                         it’s too high up

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                        did you know that elephants have

                                                                        high heels made of actual flesh

                                                                        right inside of their shoes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

that emoji is soap                                                                                         not a square brain

Mr Stephen is gay                                                                                        not a woman

Mr Stephen is the King of Baby Scissors                                                  not the king of me, Ethan

Mr O’Brien is a poet                                                                                    but he isn’t Kenneth Koch

fighting games are fun for home                                                               not here

he means that elephants have hooves                                                      not shoes

the actual foot inside is shaped uncannily like that of an adult woman in heels

aftercare is for safety                                                                                   not help

Mr Stephen is a poet                                                                                    not a teacher

                                                     heels styled like pumps

 

Mr Stephen is a writer like Mr O’Brien                                                    Mr Stephen’s mom was in a movie

Mr Stephen doesn’t know my name                                                         does Mr O’Brien live there in your house

Mr Stephen when’s my lesson                                                                   Mr Steve        is my lesson today

Mr Stephen cannot do a handstand                                                          Mr Stephen can’t do a back walkover

Mr Stephen cannot do a cartwheel                                                           Mr Stephen hates the gym door

Mr Stephen won’t show us his book                                                        Mr Stephen don’t let us run down there

Mr Stephen lets us trade food                                                                    Mr Stephen made my mom mad

about the Hunger Games                                                                           When she asked he laughed and said it was

                                                                 appropriate for all ages

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My hat is something

 

My gloves can be something

 

This is something                 Mr Stephen?              No

                              No, you say:

                                                            She only let Vasilisa have a little

                                                            bit of sturgeon

No, you say:

                        but for herself, she gobbled up

                        every last bit             Just sleep, Vasilisa

                                                            You can figure it out in the morning

How about I didn’t say that

                                                no no, she swept        how how about

 

how about it’s when the black rider passes

            Wait, what is your name

 

 

 

                        No, you have to say:

                                    As night came on, light came out of the skull

                        You say:

                                    How about you        How about I will

 

I think there should be a narrator

It will be you except in scenes you’re in

 

 

            It can be just our jackets

No, she had unbraided hair

            We can have it                      That light isn’t on

                                                                        Her sister

 

Mr Stephen’s not paying attention

                        McNally                Happyfun                       Unnameable