2 Poems and 1 Flash by Lexi Kent-Monning
Calling Card
When he leaves his chewing gum
waiting for him
(Discarded temporarily
for your tongue),
pick it off the nightstand
and put it in your mouth
so we can all reach completion.
Love Letter #4
You hate it when
I crack my knuckles,
But I’m just making more room
for you.
Between Assassination and Anonymity
I can’t handle the attention of an assassination — the sanctifying, the lying in state, the Presidential statement. But don’t fucking Jane Doe me, either. If you want me to rest in peace then give me the happy medium I could never attain. Please, above all else, don’t refer to me as a “great girl” after I die, I made it to woman a long time ago and I deserve that title posthumously. Don’t let my parents pick the photos, because they indiscriminately think I’m beautiful. My best friend knows my best angles, so let her choose. Wear a wedding dress and weep like Anna Nicole Smith at J. Howard Marshall’s funeral or don’t bother coming. Your grief should be both genuine and performative. Don’t all cry at once or you won’t hear the testimonials to my character. Remember that Anna Nicole’s areola were visible in that dress, and honor me accordingly. Don’t play the fucking Beatles. Not one single second of that shit. The playlist will be Nine Inch Nails and Kylie Minogue exclusively. See if anyone wants to publish my manuscripts once things settle down a bit — my absence could increase publishers’ interest — but don’t you dare include a foreword. Relatedly, I’ve listened to men talking for so many hours in my life, and must insist none speak about me posthumously. I will haunt the shit out of you if you serve cream cheese pinwheels at the reception. Leave only peonies at my grave; girls love peonies. I do, too. Nap next to my headstone and remember how sometimes I’d say “I’m going to take a nap” just to make everyone stop talking. Let me have the last word. Amen amen amen.
When he leaves his chewing gum
waiting for him
(Discarded temporarily
for your tongue),
pick it off the nightstand
and put it in your mouth
so we can all reach completion.
Love Letter #4
You hate it when
I crack my knuckles,
But I’m just making more room
for you.
Between Assassination and Anonymity
I can’t handle the attention of an assassination — the sanctifying, the lying in state, the Presidential statement. But don’t fucking Jane Doe me, either. If you want me to rest in peace then give me the happy medium I could never attain. Please, above all else, don’t refer to me as a “great girl” after I die, I made it to woman a long time ago and I deserve that title posthumously. Don’t let my parents pick the photos, because they indiscriminately think I’m beautiful. My best friend knows my best angles, so let her choose. Wear a wedding dress and weep like Anna Nicole Smith at J. Howard Marshall’s funeral or don’t bother coming. Your grief should be both genuine and performative. Don’t all cry at once or you won’t hear the testimonials to my character. Remember that Anna Nicole’s areola were visible in that dress, and honor me accordingly. Don’t play the fucking Beatles. Not one single second of that shit. The playlist will be Nine Inch Nails and Kylie Minogue exclusively. See if anyone wants to publish my manuscripts once things settle down a bit — my absence could increase publishers’ interest — but don’t you dare include a foreword. Relatedly, I’ve listened to men talking for so many hours in my life, and must insist none speak about me posthumously. I will haunt the shit out of you if you serve cream cheese pinwheels at the reception. Leave only peonies at my grave; girls love peonies. I do, too. Nap next to my headstone and remember how sometimes I’d say “I’m going to take a nap” just to make everyone stop talking. Let me have the last word. Amen amen amen.
Lexi Kent-Monning is an alumna of the Tyrant Books workshop Mors Tua Vita Mea in Sezze Romano, Italy. Her work has been published in Joyland, XRAY, Tilted House Review, Neutral Spaces, Little Engines, and elsewhere. She lives in Brooklyn, NY, and can be found at lexikentmonning.com