Give me your
three doubles in a row
stealing Adderall from your little brother
forgetting to brush your teeth
tired

your
make this disposable razor last two months
pick up every penny on the sidewalk
debating tasteful stripping
poor

your huddled
in the armpits of each other on the G train
together in fetal position on speaker with financial aid
loosely in bars across this rotting milk city
masses
yearning to beat

My Beaten,

I am your wretched mother
arms and legs open
waiting to receive you into me like
cat hair in my everything

I am your shitty shaman
dance monkeys
clap your unwashed hands
throw rice into my ears
as if this were a wedding wherein
the priest bones the groom in the pulpit

lick it, all of it

This year, this here year, right here
will submit to us
our crops will welt the backs of pigs
stiletto mongrels
and schmucks in slacks
Every body 1,2 schlepp
I love it when we one-two schlepp
every body 1,2 schlepp
we about to Don key kong.
 

•

Grace Dilger is a 21 year old poet living and drinking cheap beer in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn. This year she will graduate with an overpriced degree in writing from the Pratt Institute where she has spent many hours absorbing the natural habitat of the hipster. In her free time she can be found arranging her own bouquets, drinking Kombucha, and generally causing a ruckus. She hopes to one day fund her career as a poet by doing the seemingly undoable and beseeching the world to read and appreciate poetry.