Special Featurerbdpazia, special feature, poetry

Pazia: Let Me Kill Your Oldest Son

Special Featurerbdpazia, special feature, poetry
Pazia: Let Me Kill Your Oldest Son
federica-campanaro-27450.jpg

Passover

God says: let me kill your oldest son.

Mark your door with lamb’s blood.

Do you want mercy?

Did you do this?

Drink hard.

I can because I don’t remember.

My pussy tastes good because they tell me so.

I am a good fuck because I have a memory.

God turned water into blood.

Bring on another plague.

Laugh when they ask you why it’s over.

Don’t be a witness.

I just want to feel myself like a nude in great lighting.

I just want a mediocre fuck, a hand against the neck, a second to last breath.

I wish I knew why we can’t forgive ourselves.

The truth is that there is lead in the water.

The truth is that bed bugs can live for a whole year without feeding.

The truth is that everyone has STDs.

I know the truth because I read the liberal media.

They just want to make all my decisions for me.

I just want to get fucked hard and give nothing away.

I just want to swallow an orange whole and let it sit in my gullet.

I just want to cut myself open to see what kinds of things I am made up of.

I just want to empty myself until there is only an exhale.

Where is my no.

Where is my split sea.

Did I give you permission.

My pussy tastes good because they tell me so.

The first time was almost nothing.

The next time was like watching blood weave through a toilet bowl.

God freed the Jews and so I drink.

The Jews kill Palestinians and we file our nails and eat fruits and travel to countries that aren’t ours.

Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.

I know it happened because I can’t remember.

Some days I want to suck marrow straight out of you.

I hate picturing God naked.

The truth is I can’t find my keys.

The truth is a slow moving ecological disaster.

The truth is if I keep forgetting I may scratch myself to pieces.

The truth is don’t touch me.

Pazia is a queer poet and public school teacher living in Brooklyn. She is currently working on two different poetry collections, one of which is a long form confessional poem in verse. Her poetry lives in small corners of the internet and can be found in EOAGH and The Bridge.