Across the Multiverse

after Everything, Everywhere, All At Once
after Alyza Taguilas

To escape this bubble in the cosmic foam
   of existence, I verse jump. To get to the part
where I’m directing a Hiligaynon short film,
   I lick my armpit. To aim for inheritance
from a billionaire mayor, I split on the floor.
   To rise out of ashes as a phoenix, I pierce
my belly button with a toothpick. To roam
   in a country where men can freely kiss men,
I chew newspaper. To float through space,
   still as a rock, unperturbed by consequences,
I force myself to perform a handstand. To wake up
   one hot July morning before you gave up,
I sing the alphabet entirely in reverse.

Hip-hop in the Time of Appendicitis

what you don’t know can hurt you
what you don’t know can turn your body
against you
—Brian Russell

Blessed are those with low pain tolerance: The world drops you mid-air 
then asks, Are you alright? In 2014, my name got crossed out of a lineup
consisted of 12 members for an interschool dance competition I dreamt
of joining since sophomore year. If I had the guts back then, I could have 
been expelled from school at 16. If I had the guts back then, I would not be 
talking about this, and that, this, that, this, that, this, that, and this, though
I’m getting ahead of myself. The narrative begins in the part where I was in
the parking lot, practicing. Post-lunch, our crew leader turned on the music
from his portable speaker. I walked towards the stage. I warmed up and up.
Then, collapse.

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