Rae Flores

 
Lullaby

Please, sing me a song so I can fall asleep
As I beg the fairy to come before there’s sun in the skies
You gift my dreams daisies and roses and stars and sheep

Suddenly, I am awoken by hundreds and thousands of bleats
I thought I had been counting them quietly behind my eyes
But here they are, singing me songs to help me fall asleep

By dawn the fairy had come and she was not cheap
A perfectly polished penny, my growing up prize
More precious than any daisies or roses or stars or sheep

I won’t trade the money, it’s something I’ll forever keep
Though my mother tells me that buying stocks would be wise
I wish she would simply sing me a song so we can fall asleep

But I wake up from another nightmare and weep
I wonder what the feeling of falling and falling and falling implies
Where are the daisies and roses and stars and sheep?

Every step’s effort, the cliff is so steep
Slipping is something I would not advise
I miss your songs, I miss falling asleep
I miss daisies and roses and stars and sheep

When I Was Making up My Mind

The young plant died after I repotted it. I didn’t know
it would’ve been better to leave it alone. But I would
end up moving in a month anyway. Outside my windows
were the cherry blossom trees. And my roommate
with her friends, her lovers, and her weed. I worshiped
at the feet of brownstones before and now I worshiped
anywhere that had a clean place to pee. There was a line
down the middle of the room. I did not cross it. But
I also didn’t leave my bed. Two sweaters and a coat.
Never had it not been too cold or too hot or too rainy.
I guess that’s how it is anywhere you don’t want to be.
My plant didn’t like it here either. But the mice did.
They wined and dined on my roommate's crumbs
and found comfort underneath my bed. I think I am
a mouse too. My luxury is a canned margarita that’s
thick like syrup. I wish I had room in my freezer for
waffles but that’s where the pride and the vodka live.
Can we have some? Squeaked mouse one and mouse two.
Sure, it’s for special occasions, but there haven't been any.
Won’t it kill you? If it’ll kill me, then it’ll kill you too.
I am not my plant, but I do need water. With limestone?
I suppose that will do. I should call maintenance.