Dogpool

Steve. 26. SLC, UT.

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sl,ut

— my little piece of Utah feels like 15 degrees

the stoop kid turned sweater boy

and the summer’s so summer, and it lasts 27 months

you can’t get away from the sunlight

my little piece of Utah is like living in the elements

i gotta get used to going outside

taking a hike, enjoying our sandwiches

gotta tap into my white side

my little piece of Utah feels like my brand new, used chevy cruze

i just…

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lazy

— i’m laden with laziness, my life became biblical. i’m cursed with this leprosy, i’m waiting for miracles.

i drag feet, and drag ass, i’ll get there, just half slow, and half fast:

the latino slowbro

i’m worried at all times ’bout the things that i skip, like showers, and eating, and doctor’s visits.

i’m the worst kind of lazy; i work my whole ass off

and get home, and get lost, and act like an…

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liquor

— used to be all about the crushed cans and rushed plans,

but liquor works quicker in the worst way.

i learned that Redbull gives you wings, so we mixed it into drinks–

i flew away with my cousin on a thursday.

beer tastes better, i just need a bit more now, and there’re no bodegas out here, i just get robbed at the liquor store now.

four bucks for a bottle of beer, just to get bloated before…

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deadbeat

— i think i get it now. work all day, get home and try to forget it now.

move with the deadbeat hum to the deadbeat think i’ll add some drums to the deadbeat

i think i get it now. stack that cheese, get home and get shredded now.

move with the deadbeat hum to the deadbeat think i’ll add some drums to the deadbeat

i think i get it now. knead some dough, the goal is to get breaded now.

move with the

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pine tree scented candle

pine tree scented candle

— had a poem about Christmas but i never got the spirit to write it

something ’bout the fake tree and the pine tree scented candle we lighted

something ’bout how family used to feel like family back when gifts still got me excited

i would fuck around with metaphor and tippy toe around what i wanted to say

like how my plastic tree felt more real than family, the one that had forgotten me

it’s…

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rice with my spaghetti

rice with my spaghetti

— rice with my spaghetti i was raised brown brown brown

my brother adds some hot sauce, i think that’s brown brown brown

danced to Suavemente i would get down down down

i used to do this secret move, i spun around ’round ’round

we had a dog named Benji. he shit the house house house

so we straight up just got rid of him, that might be brown brown brown

the ruler or the belt? my mom smacked me down…

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write better

— i would write better if i read more. or read at all. have one voice inside my head and he’s said it all.

used to read a book a week on the train. Brooklyn-Queens, Queens to Brooklyn rinse, repeat.

i would write better if i wrote more. or wrote at all. i would write for hours back in Idaho.

had the blog ’bout the superhero comic dog. traded sleep for Tumblr posts.

i would write better if i did…

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haiku XXV

—

remember when love

still felt so shy and shallow,

and the butterflies

—

©Steven Cuenca

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the legend of Brickface

the legend of Brickface

— there once was a man, he stood 5’6, he lived in the Queensbridge projects.

his face was mangled and bruised from all the bricks that they threw; they called him Brickface.

and people knew him.

they screamed, “i see you 3E!” and they always had bricks and they threw ’em.

‘cuz Brickface was an outsider.

he didn’t look like us, he looked like someone who ate bricks on the walk to the bus.

it made…

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high socks

— high socks on my legs, rock the high tops on my feet, beat the street, treat it like a drum, hum your mother’s favorite song

three different colored jeans, wash them every 3 or 7 weeks, watch them wear out ’til they’re worn out, walk them to your mother’s home

large shirts and the sweaters hide your inner demons, help you slide by without a workout, watch you white lie like you did to your…

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instead

— i never think about the minutes between every time i smile at you, or the seconds between every time you cross my mind

instead i think about the violent waves when the sky was gray and we went to the beach. how we dragged the sand from our feet to the street to the car to the telly to the sheets

i never think about how every breath i get to take is in the same room as you, or how lonely never…

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knocking back

— love is leaning back lean and lax listening and speaking back smoke n packed drinking that which leadeth men to re-enact the best they’ve been and all the crap they think might mask the bleeding fact that they are two sips two steps back from being dad stumbled drunk with heavy hands heavy, heaven, every chance i get to trap the sickened craft of knocking back and knocking out and knocking doors

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crackhead

— he said i was a crackhead told all of his new friends i guess it’s how i’ve acted all my crazy nonsense

it should have been a funny the way he laughed right at me i must have lost my cunning when did i get so sappy

the word just cut right through me still feel it in my stomach i tried to smile and keep my cool i didn’t see it coming

he said i was a crackhead never been an addict never been a…

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new new

— new car, big windshield crack my arms are sculpted fat my home has problems that i can fix  by stepping out

new phone, a hand-me-down dark eyes, a shitty brown good jobs, they’re all around i picked the one that stuck

new clothes, i dress too young my teeth, the holy ones computer had its run dust bunnies turned to rabbits

new mood, i’m full of love my liver hates my guts live by the phrase,…

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Ritalin

— the doctors told my mother i needed to take Ritalin. the boy was born with restless legs and thoughts that ran a million miles per second.

my mother, she rejected all their council, she was grieving , needing every ounce of Steven to distract her.

i could have been a doctor, or maybe an actor, maybe a lawyer or a science boy. could have been the president off the medicine.

could have grown up…

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these are the days

these are the days

—

these are the days of documented depression, when we find we move forward to get away and any hesitation is a step back

**

these are the days we all become one color just different shades and it’s all so boring, so we scratch ourselves red and punch ourselves blue until we’re the right color purple

**

these are the days we can change our face a million ways, but we’ll never escape from the…

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used to give

— used to give more when i had a lot less. now i have a bit more and give a lot less

i still help out sometimes, but it’s like a Loch Ness Monster sighting, rare, unfocused, with shit lighting

think i need another tragedy to get myself on my feet. tragedy turned charity, is that not the recipe?

now i just rest in peace, got the world set up to meet my needs.

i’ve turned into the boy that feeds, sh…

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