Three poems
by Yash Seyedbagheri
Personal Communion
I send an email to so-called friends, the hundredth, the two-hundredth
just give me some personal communion, I say
a cup of coffee. a beer. just an hour
I don’t like white walls and Friday nights. I refresh, refresh,
inbox empty, empty, empty
Names
I try on and discard names, Rufus, Nick, Christophe, Alexei,
but the birth one never goes the fuck away
it’s like a cockroach, still running with a head and a past
for a day, a week laughing, darting, slithering, a nomenclature snake
when will it be crushed?
Reputation
the mustache man grabs me
and howls about his reputation
he chases his progeny around a yard that’s too small
and I don’t run. I chase the future
but the future hands me to the past
About the author
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. A self-proclaimed Romantic and Big Lebowski addict, Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.
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