Two poems by Kamden Hilliard
Nothing is Fast Enough Nothing
Hong Kong Aubade
above his crack of dawn: a tramp stomped sun spreading the smallness
of his hard backing cast under the hungover light of an unfamiliar city
and after these assorted mistakes (beer, a dead phone)
i dont know his name but another day another collar right?
he offers cereal and cream gone very bad say-la-vee he drawls in perfect american flatness
dull bowl bowing to his mouth dull me done and bowed to his body
clawing that ocean of muscle / wave swelling to fist me
and NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY/SWIM AT OWN RISK and i am
at own risk and i am without guard people are only beautiful
until they teach you their terror and his tutelage is impeccable
how else could he be this big bad wolf? how? without boys like me
drunk on spit and sand riptiding boys who read enough Crane
to know better but still go boys who dive even though the bottom of the sea is cruel
Nothing is Fast Enough Nothing
when she asks who is brian? over shitty pop music
and all the things that predate tomorrow and its hangover
all i can say: here’s a profile pic and some stories
i dont know brian anymore i know brian a few days ago
but all i know is whats in front of me or what im inside
time has a way of making everything unknown
when i leave my house there is nothing to say my sister
wont pour cement down her throat
or let a rapist in
i know i sound neurotic
(all the thinking and mouth breathing) but
now i understand brian and his motheaten heart
at least why he liked radiohead and hatefucking
sight is a function of light and light is always tardy
speedster: top of the shitheap
so really when he said harder he meant it
in all the ways but hes still talking at a different dude
a different set of scars and legs a trillionth
of a light-year older already those hungry eyes are always
late to my metaphorical table the potatoes are cool (congealed
with butter) the pies have flies but he still eats
still gorged with grin with my dead skin cell and shadow
crusting his lips
Kamden Hilliard studies writing and educational psychology in New York. He succeeds. Sometimes. He is, among other things: recipient of fellowships from Callaloo and The Davidson Institute, a younger and older brother, contributor for Elite Daily, and an avid hiker. He tries to keep busy. He’s been a poetry editor at The Adroit Journal and other lovely places. His poems have appeared (or will appear) in Jellyfish Magazine, *82 Review, Bodega, Specter, and other dope locations. When Kamden isn’t thinking about language, he’s sleeping or being very dumb and very happy. Selected by Rochelle Hurt.
Image:
©Ian Shelly “Mistaken For Another–Seek Consultation”
