Poems by Yumiko Awae

liebe und gewalt

my upper lip curled up

from the heat and the

bore this man gave me

(no, not the heat, just the bore)

he's an earthquake with nasty faults

he rolls around in the

tumbled areas of the city

the people here have had enough

but the devil is quite at comfort

in the midst of disaster

his face is tiled to prevent

emotional leakage, to prevent

damage from the trampling

barking remarks of those above

his nerves prick so easily

that seeing him scared

is like seeing a string

pick up his backbones

everytime he inhales (and sometimes exhales)

as if the frayed flower petals

were taunted under a telescope

as if the words of the unholy ghosts

were tormented under a magnifying glass

as if the man-made crystals

were put to shame under a microscope

he kicked my head from stage to stage

with his new soilbreaking soccer shoes

he made such intricate diamond cuts

into my scalp that

the more pain i gained

the more shimmer it gave

i could feel the sick hurt pouring up

backward from the toilet

through the blood of mine

that poured from my cut head

the mark of the drill i

can only feel and imagine the pattern

his gangrenous breath blew

right into the cerebellum of my un-wish

and ever since i've been unable

to separate the colors of good and evil

i've been too numbed to look at him

and realize my hatred at the same time

intravenous love

i bled into that body as if

i were giving birth to it. at first

it started to refuse me

but it was i who had given him

that extra layer of skin and

in a way i gave birth to him.

if anybody wishes to kill him

i may again give birth

to the same life over and over.

i may give birth to him until his death

becomes right and rings fair. i spat

that blood of mine into his body

and he sucked it in like it was

his own. his body was

no longer just his, it was

ours. he shuddered as if his skin

caused an allergic reaction

to the sensation of life. his veins screaked

under him as if to tell me that

he was no longer dead. his sweat

dashed out of his wheezing pores

like tears, hot and fast like the breaths

that stumbled out of his nose and mouth

with new fervor. his memory

had been cremated with the life

that had been pulled out of his

sorry corpse and i was to be

the imprintor of his every decision

in his newborn mind.

architectural wet dream

there are these buildings that

symbolize men and women, as all

buildings do, and those that

symbolize men will always make me

want to be the statue of liberty

so i can swallow those phallic

masses of concrete. if i become

the statue of liberty i will

surround myself with the

dicks of stucco and become

the queen of new york. being

the statue of liberty i will

feel free to fuck around

with any of the steel erections

i want. i'll be such a

horny little lady, i would

let people inside me just to

have them visit my weak spots

and observe my orgasm.

ice-fished

under the sheet of frozen water i feel numb until comfort soothes my skin. it

ruptures from the cold that i don't recognize and blood makes a funny trail

where skaters put their pressure on the thin rink. i could look up their

skirts and noses and know what keeps them numb as well. though out of

feelings, my eyes can't keep up with the current that wraps around my nerves

like air on a windy day. the sky blackens and melts my head as i dig lower

into the bubbling ice. the sound of skates grow more distant, both from the

depth and the warmth which reside elsewhere in someone else's ears. the

bubbles become weaker and my head shivers off courage and effort. i free

myself from the echoes of those above and sink further towards the ground.

Yumiko Awae is a professional bum living in the less smoggy valley area of Los

Angeles. Her poetry has been published in a few local zines across the nation

as well as a couple of college literary magazines. She is known to her former

college creative writing professor as 'psychobitch'. Her works can be seen on

her own website at Yumiko Awae


Last Updated July 17th, 1998

For more information contact: Yumiko Awae