Shall I Compare Thee to an Atomic Bomb?

Shall I compare thee to an atomic bomb?

Thou creates massive explosions from miniscule amounts of matter.

Thou split my small heart to the nucleus and backed away from the energy released.

I am radioactive;

I am glowing green through the night,

I am forever weighed down by the intense conflict of two of the strongest forces,



I am decay.


Shall I compare thee to an atomic bomb?

Thou burnt away my skin to see into my bones.

I art thou’s Lucky Dragon,

I am contaminated by our fallout.

Shall I continue in this half-life of fungus clouds and carcinogens

Or commend myself to the silo?

I am forever weighed down by the intense conflict of two of the strongest forces,



I am decay.

Slam Sunday: “Aftermath” by Chris Nguyen and Em Alves


“I am a pitcher of blood shaped like a boy, and my father clenches a bowl as if he might smash my jaw, empty me and collect my fragments.”

I’ve never posted a duet (?) poem before, but I love this poem and it’s unflinchingly honest portrayal of domestic violence and its effects.

I couldn’t find any information on the poets in the video, which makes me a sad Kelsey. If anyone knows these two amazing wordsmiths information, please comment.


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When I was young,

I met Cerberus.

I saw his puppy dog eyes

Before I saw his dripping fangs.

I saw my reflection in his maw,

Felt his hot putrid breath on my face.

I should have run,

The wagging tail beckoned me to stay.


His first head was a loving animal

Full of the first love of spring.

His paw steps followed my footfall, step for step.

His fur was soft and his disposition loyal.

He slept on my pillow

And kissed my face.

I saw his puppy dog eyes.


His second head sunk it’s fangs into me

And pulled at my flesh.

He only claimed to be a dog in heat

As he tore me open.

Only an animal, not knowing any better.

I lay on the cool grass beside him

Licking my wounds.

I felt his hot putrid breath on my face


His third head stared into the distance

Eyes unfixed, unsteady.

What did you see, little dog,

Off in the distance?

He contemplated life and death in the same breath.

Oh my sweet-eyed demon,

My perfect monster.

There are no answers for those who dwell at the gates.

I should have known where following him would lead,

The wagging tail beckoned me to stay.



Your blood for our health they said and I said no but it did not come out in a way they could hear, in vocalized sadness and tears and acceptance of a fate that is not mine to choose. I thought of my brothers and sisters and for a moment peace was mine because this was happening everywhere, for us unlucky ones born on the days of 13 and 4 and 5 and possessors of robust hearts for which no one bled. I feel callings for things I do not understand and they say I cannot feel desire so I don’t, but I want things and I never have them and that is the way it is. They laughed while they killed me and my blood became their
health and I wondered if they were happy.

God Bless the Bastards

God bless the bastards,

Whose souls tread where demons would say

Too far.

Bless those beautiful bastions of burning bleeding hatred.

Those who put all else below them.

Dust to dust are we,

Born into wedlock of our humanity.

God bless the bastards.

If they can be saved,

Then I am a saint.


I have swallowed so many words
If I cough paragraphs may spill from my lungs,
Like blood from the martyrs body.
If I sneeze an essay may grace my tissue,
Like the autograph of an idol.
If I vomit a novel will float in my porcelain sea,
Like a ship with too many sails.
Oh I have swallowed so many words
It is a miracle that when I open my mouth to speak
Nothing comes out.