A giraffe, that is a blind glass,
that is K. Silem Mohammad,
that is, he can’t read.
K. Silem, pour me a drink,
Mr. Mohammad, give me a smoke,
give me your cat so I can rename him
“Dax Ralter” which you wouldn’t understand because
you like the wrong star, Mr. K. Silem,
you live in the wrong house and
this was going to be your funeral invitation
but I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.
Rhiannon Chavez is a little hungover from one of Indigo Palmer’s killer pal parties as they type this. They are grateful for the poetry community they’ve found here at SOU and are glad they decided to apply even when LA-renowned poet Sesshu Foster said they could do better. They, too, are a poet and were just saying last night while holding a dirty Shirley how wonderful they think Flarf is.
Main Squeeze Literary Journal 