I Am Wrong


I need one cow to

trade for magic beans. Replace the dress with ink stains and
offer rain to the flowers.

He is two things and

I am wrists crossed with transparencies. Promise the
flowers rain for months and never follow through.

I want three of your fingers on

the dashboard so I can smash them with this book. Your
concept of hope is smaller than my understanding of
physics, and the problem is that I can’t see you.

If four magic beans

make one hundred and four miles of stalk, how many beans
do I need to get home? I don’t think I have enough cows,
and I’m trying to peel a potato with a potato.

This happens five times

faster if the wingspan is longer and the petals dry more

I give it six more

seconds, but he always comes after two. Tomorrow the
flowers will realise that you’re not giving them rain. The
crippling disappointment will be almost instantly forgotten
to infatuation.

I sent seven poems and you

didn’t read them. If you feel you are not properly sedated,
leave your goddamn money in the bank, asshole.

I prepare eight different

rucksacks for the climb home. Each contains supplies for a
different kind of journey.

thick socks
instant hot cocoa
Alaskan Malamute

cargo pants
ultra strength insect repellent
acrylic butterfly cases

bikini top
sand shoes
Australian flag towel

neon face paint
cut-off shorts
vodka in a water bottle
rape whistle

a boat

cork hat
boom box
cactus trimmer

nerve gas
theatre glue
utility belt


There are nine people who

aren’t related to me that I would like to invite to my
birthday party. The party planner thought it was a joke. In
response, I show her how to perform taxidermy on a crow.
She says, peeling that potato would be way easier with a
potato peeler, and she hands me another potato.


Alora B. Young


Previous | Next