SASCHA COHEN

death drive pleasure principle

I have released my carnival prize fish into the ocean.
My super-ego skipped death and we skinny-dipped
into some groovy scenes: the claw machine
and the colosseum. The motel and the madhouse.

We took quaaludes at the bathhouse. I do
whatever the hell I want: Feed the wildlife.
Stare at the sun and tap on the glass. You can pry
this God molecule from my cold, dead brain.

Sometimes a corpse is just your mother.
The universe folds us all back together
after death, and every day I start over
on this same beach, counting the grains
of sand. One must imagine my goldfish happy.

Sascha Cohen is a writer from Los Angeles. Her poems have been nominated for the Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize.