by Sarp Sozdinler
I’m the turtle that overdosed on the side of the road
I’m a mountain goat with arthritic legs
I’m the ugly-cry that occasioned at a parking lot
I’m the tilted cross on a spotless wall
I’m a fetus with hands and feet in all the wrong places
I’m a kid who can only dream under the bed
I’m the man that the war turned into an idiot
I’m the baby that came elbow-first
I’m the weed growing out of hot tarmac
I’m a bird bathing in oil spill
I’m the hand tucked under the goose-feather pillow
I’m a rifle that only shoots backwards
I’m the death the stillborns welcome with open hands
I’m the spit of queer god
I’m the loss that got gross
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Sarp Sozdinler has been published in Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Shenandoah, Pithead Chapel, HAD, X-R-A-Y, and Maudlin House, among other journals. You can find him on Twitter @sarpsozdinler or at www.sarpsozdinler.com.
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