Poetry by Kiki Dy

                  Richard P J Lambert CC



The Last All You Can Eat 

We were on the cusp of
                                             chaos
Loitering in QwikMart and we asked them
To turn the music up and they acquiesced
Because I wasn’t wearing a bra
And you had a gun
But maybe I’ve rewritten that in
                                                               the retrospect
And there was no gun
And maybe I’ve rewritten it all
Because when someone dies
The ability to reminisce dies with them
And all of a sudden there are guns in QwikMarts
And quiet conversations about desire on rooftops
There are secret glances at In-n-Out burger
Where you get close enough that
the inch between our noses
holds everything that I wish I distilled
Because sometimes when it gets late enough
And quiet enough
I drive in the dark toward
what I hope is some version of truth
But it is not because you are not here
to tell me whether or not there was a gun
or if the waitress at Gyu Kaku had a mole on her left eye
Or if I really was a bitch that night with the plumber
Or if I was a gracious, giving friend
Or whether we loved each other ferociously or
Just capably at best
And I will never know any of this
Because when someone dies
The ability to reminisce dies with them
And you black out in your car
Never knowing what is true
And what is a wish made up in your head





Abbey Hated My Boyfriends 

I am trying to let my illusions last
and with this comes with the consequence
of blindly crying love and forcing
Half-Puerto-Rican men into my heart when
really all I crave is a delectable loneliness
But I tell myself I can’t have this
because there is great comedy
to be spurred from
mistakes
So I make the mistakes and thrust myself
hard into them
banging opposing egos together
like flecks of flint
trying to make sparks that spell out
               This was me, I was young
But at what cost




3. 

I am starting to forget your touch
The smooth of your massive tits
The exact damning decibel your laugh could reach

I am starting to summon you in cheap sunglasses
Casting an earth spell by
Commissioning a kiddie pool full of Xanax and glitter

I see your happiness in a bowl of rice
Then I eat it
Maybe that’s what I always did

I try to rewrite it without my selfishness and sadness
Without our addictions
But I continue to summon you in baby benders

A bottle of wine, a gram of coke, then three valium to offset it
And I am prone on the Moroccan rug staring into the ceiling
Convinced I have conjured you back

“Let’s go” I say and my lids surrender onto themselves
I dance with your dingo and laugh with your lungs
You put on my grief and I put on your bra
​
How fun it is to have nothing to do
But laugh until five, hula hooping with you

​

Kiki Dy is a recent MLitt graduate from The University of Aberdeen which she decided to attend in an emotional fugue. She is allowing herself a victory lap in the Scottish bar scene and inboxes of literary magazines before she likely decides to attend law school or perfect her quiche as a welcome lark. 

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