two poems by eduardo quinones

Polar Bears

I’m thinking ‘there should be a polar bear on my face digesting things, fiercely.’
Then I think ‘why would I want a polar bear on my face digesting things fiercely?
Why would I want anything that isn’t sleep or sex?’

Polar bears represent sex if you were a polar bear. If I were a polar bear I would think humans
represent sex if you were a human. Thinking about not knowing why I’m thinking these things.

If a light bulb exploded right now I would be very alarmed and grab my cell phone because cell phones
are reassuring creatures of habit. Or I am a creature of habit seeking reassurance from a cell phone.

My current state is wide awake or not tired enough.

I want to punch a baby to say that once in my life I
punched a baby.

All I can say now is “Once in my life I felt the desire to punch a baby.”

I’m thinking ‘if you cry my life would feel ok or something.’
It would mean you care or something.

I am a living carcass, wide awake or not tired enough.
Thinking about sex and polar bears.
 
 
Cat, fake mustache, Sarah:

Today I walked in a puddle of water.
Socks wet. Cold. I took the train home.
And saw pictures of cats and thought
about ‘our’ cat. The cat we talked about
buying, together. We never bought it,
together, or separately, and the desire is
still there, for you and the cat. The cat,
‘our’ cat is in my head, smiling, I don’t know
how but smiling and wearing a festive sombrero
with a fake mustache, and you are there
too smiling, because you are Sarah and
you are always in my head, smiling.
 
 
Eduardo Quinones is 20. He likes cats and fake mustaches. He has a shitty job installing sound proofing panels for recording studios and a twitter no one follows.