Poetry

remember i have no

ribcage.

only an exoskeleton.

i shed myself,

my cicada shield.

every few years

or so i become

unravelled.

do not crush me.

i hear you

trampling

the forest floor.

i don’t think

you heard me.

tree knuckles

crack, rodent

skeletons

picked clean.

climb says

instinct.

she is hard

to ignore.

even though

i swear by

free will.

it’s impossible

to unravel mysteries.

sometimes

i miss

underground.

i dreamt

of wings,

a carapace,

a simple,

unending

rhythm. 

Alexander Perez (he/they), gay, non-gender conforming, Hispanic/Latino, in 2022, has published poetry in Queer Toronto Literary Magazine, New Note Poetry Magazine, Variety Pack Literary Magazine, Literary Yard, The Voices Project, and Whiskey Blot. Two separate poems have also been selected to appear with accompanying artwork at gallery exhibitions entitled “Poetic License - Albany” sponsored by the Upstate Artists Guild and Hudson Valley Writers Guild; and “Poetic License 2022” sponsored by the Poetry Barn and Arts Society of Kingston. Alexander Perez lives in Albany, NY. Website: perezpoet.press Instagram/Twitter: @perezpoet