A Poem by Gabriel Ojeda-Sague

Author: Poetry Editor
January 10, 2018
This week, a poem by Gabriel Ojeda-Sague.
from Jazzercise Is A Language
Again: queen of spades: missive: tower of glass
Again: I miss an old friend: another killing: the
sickness that sinks below the teeth: I hold onto my
problems like a pile of fish: slipping out onto my
shoes: I want a remote that changes the direction
of my toes: an adjustable brace to change the
circumference at the wide end of my head: a lever
to pull my spine tighter: “loss,” as Judi says, is the
state of having something from your hands become
wild: we meet between counts: center of the
afternoon
Again: the sound of a body being thrown to the
ground: four on the floor
——
GABRIEL OJEDA-SAGUE is a Miami <-> Philly gay, Latino Leo living in Philadelphia, PA. He is the author of the poetry books Jazzercise is a Language (The Operating System, 2018) and Oil and Candle (Timeless, Infinite Light, 2016). He is also the author of chapbooks on gay sex, Cher, the Legend of Zelda, and anxious bilingualism.