The Noresoup Jukebox

my sister screams at the apricot tree my mother planted "Why have you pierced through my walls? why have you broken my windows?" I sit still, others enjoy the apricots. it is the first harvest and we have been blessed giddy with anticipation as its flower falls a tree cannot bear the burden of a human's sorrows it has bore fruit, the wait has been fought the apricots are sour,  there are some years ahead before they become sweet but the apricots and the tree - with all its bothersome branches - are ours and till then, window panes will be fixed and walls be filled branches can be cut but they may sprout with glee bear flowers for bees and turn to fruit and ripen again with ease what is it then that we can do? but to bathe in its beauty, to collect its petals, to watch its leaves turn brown and to enjoy its fruits before it perils yes, it is true, i sometimes scream at the apricot tree too for why are its flowers a dull pink why are its fruits small when my family needs pl...

i ate like a starved child on January i felt there was no point any longer if i ate pork, i ate only the fatty bits if i had meat, i had 3 servings and after my meal, i wrap sugar in syrup-soaked pancake and then i sleep lipstick on a pig i was undesirable then just as i am now when food filled up to my nasal cavity  i allowed myself to dance, i sang when it went down further and pranced when it all fit in my belly and i grew and grew and it was the same then and now lipstick on a pig being a woman is such: when i found myself grounded, just as i was growing out of my skin just as i prayed and said it is enough my belly emptied itself, all coming out of my mouth and it happened in February and it happened on a Sunday when i swore it would never happen again and when i had cursed men and i had found comfort in my sloth well all my desires came back to me like a forgotten memory and then i remembered all that i had wanted for myself and that night my mother tells me she's living thro...

Ichiko Aoba - Asleep Among Endives I have not written in a while, I wonder why the last time I wrote, I wrote about love or rather I finished what I had written about love I started the poem back in June or was it July or a few months after? I'm not certain. When Ruby wrote to me and told me she liked my way of thinking I was perplexed because my thoughts had only ever existed behind my eyelids and suddenly they had transcended into their own beings; like they mattered and maybe they do, in fact, matter beyond the values I give them perhaps my thoughts seep out every now and then and people thank or hate me for it But since then I have lost money, someone stole my phone and I spilt my drink on my laptop many tears were shed and few were left oblivious to my despair I went clubbing once and regretted it; I've felt dirty ever since then I'm upset with a friend and it's been over a month now and there's a lunatic living above me I haven't been hugged in a while nor...