We stopped talking about flipping the earth

now this is the softcore version             nearest to the one wanted

spaces between days are brainless                     spent singing

my head off.                                 You see, cellar spiders

trace the shape of a life    that is not life

and while I’m waiting

for the hole to become the sun                       time is running out.

Take my jaw into your hand              be like a flame on water

So that tomorrow can be pure

the doctor had to die                                        I destroyed him

Cover Art by Guilherme Bergamini

Goldie Negelev

Goldie Negelev is a poet based in Oakland, California. Her poetry has appeared in Berkeley Poetry Review, MARY: A Journal of New Writing, Cosmonauts Avenue, and other journals.

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