BOMB
How many
and how do
they work
and
who makes them
and
how
and how do you write
what you don’t know
and I have
never built a bomb
pressed a button and felt it lighten
the load of a plane
I have
Never been bombed
But I know
It is work like any other
It is work in a factory
Or in the small outbuilding
on your brother’s land
It is primarily work
in exchange for pay
Or the things that pay
is exchanged for:
bread, milk, a bed
Leo Szilard lay
in the bathtub
for hours
Dreaming of atoms
A physicist can produce
an intense explosion
by dreaming
In comparison,
A writer is cucked
Even when they discover
an un-exploded bomb
buried under the campus
The picture in my brain
Is not detailed
Windows trembling
Ash on a leaf
Students using the detonation
as an excuse
not to go to class
We are parts of something,
you and I
Something terrible
That none of us
has ever seen
another occupation
i’m getting fired lol i text josé
who doesn’t reply
the workers are walking out
again, the students are walking in,
U-locks on their necks
i’m telling my mom
to wear a diaper to the courthouse – astronauts do it
nathan’s case is going to appeal
i still have beautiful young skin
my boss still hates me,
although realistically what that actually means is that I am constantly
compelled to sabotage the work process
getting arrested again
unable to write the novel i want to write
which is just a description of the colour
of trees in summer
in the evening and the million flavours of pavement
as my head gets kicked into the pillow
the 12th floor of the metropolitan correctional centre
escape through flickering lights
i am alive i am in here
not everything is death just most things
my dad actually quit smoking
a vietnamese guy
on the bus told me
whenever i want to smoke
i just drink 3 beers
and boom i pass out
REJECTED BY SUBWAY FRANCHISE EMPLOYEES ON 18TH STREET I WALK HOME WITH NOTHING
I admit she slid the sandwich
onto the counter
so I could
have grabbed it
But $5.99 is too much for a sandwich
If you think about it
that’s a dollar an inch
In theory
you can’t trust no one
especially me having the self-respect to walk away
if my coupon is not honoured
Do I have to prove I have money
Unlike the 3 guys sitting on
the sidewalk outside the store
But I just don’t want to use my money
I’m not pressing submit on my time-
sensitive coupon just to prove a point
Žižek said freedom is painful
Co-sign
Do I literally have to build an organic social media following
in order to get the coupon
for my sandwich respected
At a pay rate of 12 inches
an hour
minus me having to stay alive
The human condition
I put in work for that coupon
I got 3 people to sign up
for the Subway Club ™ but don’t worry about it
I should put some of my other problems
in this poem
A poet recently told me
everything is political
Don’t you think I wish I could be normal too
Walking home with nothing
String of lightbulbs hung up by the lake edge
Sun setting on the contradictions
Just dark enough to see a body lying on the ground
Just light enough to avoid it
Aimée Lê
Aimée Lê is a Vietnamese American writer, director and performer. She is a member of the Royal Holloway Poetics Research Centre and has held lectureships at Royal Holloway and University of Exeter. Her latest book, Erectric Schlock, is forthcoming 2022 from Broken Sleep Books.