absolutely torqued

the question is what do you want to drink
& the answer is always yes. i am
the inside of a fountain in that i suck
scum into my crevices like
a bottom-feeder turned loose
in a field of carrion. i open
my blinds & stare down at traffic,
shutter released longer & longer
the emptier the bottle gets—taillights
blur to flowing cabernet & eastbound
traffic shines like sauvignon blanc.
(my father was an oenophile
& my childhood fever dreams
are tinted like the contents of crystal
goblets.) i always imagine someone
is watching me wobble across
linoleum floor, triple-sheeted & tossed
to the wind. imagine with delight
that a stranger sees me stumbling, waves
hello. i think of how much i care
about how glamorous i must seem
with a glass in my hand. in the mirror,
i rake fingers through miles of hair,
nearly manic—the question is what
does it say that my beauty is all for show
& no one is looking at me right now?

nat raum (b. 1996) is a queer disabled artist and writer based on unceded Piscataway land in Baltimore. They’re the editor-in-chief of fifth wheel press and the author of you stupid slut, the abyss is staring back, random access memory, and others. Find them online: natraum.com/links