Alonzo Page is a senior in Jonathan Edwards College. He wrote a collection of poems, Other & Unruly, for his senior project as an English Major in the writing concentration. Contact him at alonzo.a.page@gmail.com.
By Fire
I want to be
a little bit irrational
with you. Let you know
I don’t mind being residual,
what’s left after fear
sneaks in, singeing things
you thought you could save.
Even as everything burns,
the ash from my forehead
mingling with yours so that
by daybreak we’ll only be
scorch marks and bare skin.
SoftNegroLoop
a playlist
For that low-down,
when in doubt listening.
That late night, all-alone,
lights still on listening.
That thinking too much
after two, leftover memory,
maybe it’s me listening.
That this could’ve been us
but you were playing listening.
That seeing someone else,
but never really liked her
anyways listening.
That text I never sent,
naked picture, not sorry
I saved a screenshot listening.
That this time will be different,
same old shit listening.
That overplaying on player-hate,
not another encore listening.
That miserable in the club,
make it a double, damn,
I’m on one listening.
That old voicemail, in my feelings,
I’ll get high if I want to listening.
That binge, brooding blackout,
Where is everybody? listening.
That one more question,
Why has it been so long?
please don’t judge me listening.
That little truth listening.
That you almost think
you love her listening.
Rihanna Leaves a Voicemail
Stop hitting on me,
calling me out in public
saying you know something
about this body.
Yesterday, I filled up the tub too far
and didn’t feel like getting out
to clean what spilled over the side.
I let the water get cold
and started to like
that I couldn’t feel
the wrinkles on my fingertips.
I don’t know how long
I was laying there
watching the bath salt eddy
around the drain, but
the current in the water
reminded me of the back roads
we took to see the sunrise
on the PCH, the way it wound
around and around as we drove
down the coast, away from all the lights.
I can’t tell anymore, whether
it’s the bruises
or the bad dreams, but
I keep thinking about
how fast I’d have to hit the guardrail
to break the barrier, and have you
call me something other than crazy
or beautiful.
Drake Sends a Passive-Aggressive Text
When I asked you what you wanted,
not everything you told me was a lie.
Now, I wonder what
I lost when I met you.
The thinnest air I ever breathed
was through your lips.
**All images provided by Alonzo Page**
fuego!!!