NELSON YANG

Dead Birds Don’t Fly

     When I think of love, I know of two birds watching helplessly as ants infiltrate the rotting stump of which their chicks chirped out in pain.

     It is a boy who believed he had the strength to save those chicks as crimson scars continued to cascade on his skin, countless compared to his goal.

     He raised them without ever expecting anything but the joy of having something he could call his until his mother decided the birds were too old for cages inside a dying house.

     He had not known she had done such an act until he came home greeted by the absence of decay. He asked, “how could you do this to me? I loved them.”

     Her response was not for him to hear but for his father who didn’t want to be there; absent in the role of a lover, a husband, he did not have the type of wings to reach her.

     The porch always cracked under the sun’s outward gaze. The floorboards ached from unused furniture. It was a dying house but those birds always came back to see me.

     When I think of love, I think of how those wings carried them to places I’ve never been yet always returned in their freedom. When I think of love, it is how men who have lain themselves next to me slither away in the darkness, choking on my unborn children.

Rules to know it’s love;

There are nine rules

to being human

according to the Ancient Sanskrit

Can you find yourself

Inside him

When he is lost in yours?

Pick eight things

You would bring

To an island adventure

Is there any

thing that reminds

you of him?

Seven ruffled crows

circle above you

eyeing the soon-to-be cadavers.

Should you feel

an intense hatred

toward the nature of things?

Over there, six times

greener than yours

with no shit in tow

Do you ever want

to go there instead?

Does he?

Hear five lessons

echo in your

muddled stained throat

Have you ever

Learned how to

Whisper “forgiveness”?

Burn four letters

That you wrote

For the places you’ll never visit

Could you find

The strength to

Ever write them again?

Commit three hours

Into understanding

why kiwis don’t fly

Does it take

A cold embrace

To learn your lesson?

Leave two reasons

Why you didn’t

Feed the dogs

Wild roses sway in the wind

You see less than 10,

how can you pick one?

One body

Makes pudding splatter

Across the walls

<|There isn’t a

reason anymore|>

Another Red Day

They told me I came out of the womb bleeding,

caressing my blood like sweet fruit bleeding.


Oh if you could see baby me smile,

how the cuteness from me was bleeding.


Tough love comes in many different forms,

I did not know it meant my heart would endure bleeding -


even after I learned the way sand fell through my fingers

that a “no” would be followed by the tip of the wire bleeding.


I lost my youth hidden in the darkness of the lakeshore path,

The chill of a fall was more comforting than when he left my ass bleeding,


When life gives you lemons I made sure

it was normal for the sting to be bleeding.


The unyielding earth does not tell me

if we all die alone bleeding.


He stared into my soul as his lips parted touch,

and even Nelson could tell his eyes were bleeding.

Mixed Drinks

He pins me
on the ground
and he smiles
he knows me
as I let
him think so
our bodies twist
and tangle, hot
and heavy breaths
my face reddens
around his neck
he lifts me
up so I
smile into eyes
that makes it
hard to control -
I love you
as he relaxes
his hold on
me, he cries

Nelson Yang is a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.