The Poetry Section: Angelo Nikolopoulos
by Mark Bibbins, Editor
This week, two new poems from Angelo Nikolopoulos.
GOING GARBO
In the talkies
I’m more holistic than duplicitous:
Garbo talks, Garbo laughs,
Garbo works in a jam factory-
all the houses look alike
on this joyless street.
And if someone asks you,
Iris Storm, how to get
to the end of the cul-de-sac,
tell them flank pain
and renal failure,
metallic taste in the mouth.
I’m less Mata Hari these days
and more eating-dress,
divine velour of solitude.
Black eye of the day.
To be let alone,
an espionage of pores,
in the down comforter of light
where I am lovely
and singularly Swedish.
Not bedridden
but boudoir-bound-
there’s a difference-
to peel back the skin
to become all tulle. Chalk puff.
But don’t get it twisted-
I like you, mon monde,
my talking heads.
It’s only partially disgusting
that I prefer my own self instead.
But let’s switch onuses,
you carry the burden
for a change. Stage left:
my penny-loafered starlet,
how would you lift it-
my heartthrob,
your own blonde dread?
HOT INTERRACIAL, HARD FUCK, BIG BLACK COOK
-Xtube video title
And why not-
when it’s a scrambling, isn’t it?
Kidney shuffle, blowing one’s beans,
overture of parts,
dry to wet, mouth-whisked
and body-beaten to barmy foam.
Though this cook’s no regard
for precise ratios:
2 parts meat : 1 part yolk, and so forth.
It’s soulful improvisation,
a dash of this, fistful of that,
a finger in every pink-teemed pot,
since math makes no good art.
Not typo then-
unforgivable swap of nouns-
but something Freudian,
a slip into the bread and butter
of relations,
simple reduction:
how we lump our parts together
willy-nilly and sweat-streaked-
a sloppy alchemy-
and hope for the best:
profligate limbs on the mealy sheets
left to rise leavened and browned-
in the morning
we’ll depart wholesome again.
Angelo Nikolopoulos is a graduate from NYU’s creative writing program. His work has appeared in Boxcar Poetry Review, Gay and Lesbian Review and Los Angeles Review. He hosts The White Swallow, a reading series in Manhattan.
You may contact the editor of The Poetry Section at [email protected].
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