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Poetry

Prom Night

I asked the moon out to prom
by chugging the oily seas where she skinny dipped,
I threaded needles through the smallest stars and sewed a velvet sky…
But she just rolled her big white eyes.
“I need no more big-belted bastards. You’d better be the bashful guy.”
So I slimmed back down, thoroughly lady-whipped…
It’s a sarcastic universe, mom.

By the.vonz.himanen

Ivan Himanen is an architect, urbanist, and researcher based in New York City.

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