Candace Corbin: Selected Poems

Candace Corbin is a poet and artist who studies painting at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston, Massachusetts. She recently released her first zine of drawings and poetry at the Richmond Zine Fest. It includes some of the poems that follow. Contact Corbin at candacelcorbin@gmail.com.

RED SHEETS

I don’t have red
Bed sheets
Neither do you
Yours are green

Last night
I slept in red sheets
it was
cold out

I did not
wake up alone in
red sheets
I was warm

DEAR PAUL WESTERBERG (le chat)

you were so small
you could fit
snuggled
around my neck

now your tail
touches my belly button
and you shit
in my closet

Everything is Different

UNTITLED 1

                    

There is no

difference

in the way

your sweat tastes

from the taste

of his.

There is no

comfort

in arms after

heavy breathing.

You were there and I'll be there too

Take the 11 line
out to belleville,
Jourdain.

buy her a panini
"la sauce blanche"
Old people
only talk
to distract
Themselves
from Dying

across the street,
             cent soixante!
                        CHRISTINE!
                                    GLOUCIE!
the secret garden?
     it’s behind the store fronts.

(don't give him
any money
he used to beat
his wife.)

Now vin chaud,
hot wine.
you'll enjoy this,
I'll warm you up
I'll rest in your gut

you'll feel me there.

A cigarette
now?
now,
you'll just feel
worse

I'll be there too

don't let her see!
another pint! quick!
where is the waiter?
                        "merci."

Oh! and the park
Parc des Buttes Chaumont!
how could you forget?

you'll need to sit up
on the hill
the one in
the drawing.

I never sent
the drawing

it matched
the letter
about the cold
and the hill
and My
wanting You
there

careful now,
don't let her see.

she looks pretty
your breaths
fog in unison

but I'm there too.

I dare you
to kiss her
I,
dog dare
triple!
dog
dare

you.
you'll wish
me there

but not aloud,
and to yourself

behind
your eyes
and on the
underside of
your laugh

and in her mouth
around her back
across her shoulders
back to the mouth

no reason to tell her.

she looks pretty.

you never were
one for honesty
anyway

Mona knows your
secret
behind red ropes
and bullet proof glass
she'll keep
quiet.

(disgusting)




IS TODAY WEDNESDAY

By a count
I never kept,
one hundred and sixty five days
with some number of others
is all it took.
It took all that.

By another count,
the apathy
for the others
can’t measure up
to the want
for the former.
           and the want for the former
will turn bitter
           and the want for the former
then spoils
           and the want for the former rots.