Gabriel Ojeda-Sague

from Jazzercise is a Language 


trumpeter in your catalog make no 

mistake my purse is lost upon my 

waking the rodeo dynamite the white 

crystal legs psuedo-science of car 

batteries do this with me and a-one

 and a-two and a three-e-and-a-four 

I’m made for more I develop black 

photos under red light my relief in 

clean cardboard the phrasing nested 

lightly between pixels sticky sun beat 

up ramshackle spartans there is a 

great grey hole behind venus that is 

sucking gas fast and will leave us 

without knees I burp a contrail it 

soars across the sky it’s true the 

light of the sun does meet my skin I 

was born to replicate puerto rico I 

bankrupt the indigo freeway I have 

lost 6 pounds this week alone I am 

committed I am supplementing this 

with diet and light weight training 

please be sure to supplement this 

with diet and light weight training

 for the best results I am not transparent 

nor am I defensive I am a medical 

center I am your best customer I 

must be as stuck in your nose as the 

q-tip oh jill it’s not true I did buy the 

oatmeal you asked for I did I spent 

my own money on it too no I am not 

harassing your secretary I really 

believe she is not from this planet 

and neither is our son I am only as 

glassine as the program allows this 

is my two-handed axe my volcanic 

suv he thinks he has me to himself

but I am not a bowl of cereal you are 

if fairies only new the horrible smell 

of their wings gourmet scallions midi 

august I took raw graphite from the 

burial of the blimp let your knees 

drop to the floor completely smile 

and be yourself look straight into the 

light chocolate involution always 

before always before the sound of 

elephants this is my favorite routine 

to mark my tibia with red circles then 

over some hill there is the rest of the 

world my friend would want me to 

say this is the truth the sun is 

amazing but I am not my 

friend my lamp is amazing











Jellyfish
for Sade Murphy



What stuffs
the lack of sound
is always a train

High on obituaries,
I put my feathered eyes
on another man
who is measuring the room
again

I’d like to change

Simply, the
zones are
redrawing again

Like a bottle,
I still don’t worry about towers
I’m more nervous
about peacetime
and the rewiring
of cited sources

Everybody knows
I love to U-turn
in Miami traffic

It’s for the Doppler
and for hitting the
palms again