Poems by Honor Zetzer

Honor Zetzer | @epicreztez

Finity

I canceled all my subscriptions. I want to

Embrace the age of new analog. 

I do not want the world at my fingertips anymore.

My fingertips are too small to touch it. 

Too small to touch it and I’m always gnawing them smaller with my nervous nail biting habits. 

On October 13, 2024, I did not do very much

I did not read any books

I did not write any poems

I did not go for any walks

I did not make any meals

I did not search for any movies

I did not stream any shuffled playlists

I did not tap, click, scroll, scroll, scroll, post, participate. 

On October 13, 2024, I woke up

I vomited, I wallowed, and I went back to sleep. 

Sometimes

I think this should be enough.  

~

Barking Dog Blues

I go on my walk / and smoke my weed / 

and wonder if I’ve ever / really / been happy. 

Here at this block / the house with

chain linked fence / there’s a dog who / always / barks  

every time I pass.

Dog must hate / that I’m high / rolling over belly / up enjoyment. 

Dog must hate that I / unlike most / don't work on Tuesdays. 

Dog must have some kind of shared mind with my mother. 

It barks at me / vicious / on my afternoon walk 

with sun too bright / white dust kicked up and blurring naked edges.

It barks at me / and I stick out my tongue. 

The neighbor sees. The dog does not stop. I fear I’ve made a joke of myself. 

The bus is / bright orange / and clatters over pavement all the way downtown. 

No one here knows / of the tongue and the / joke / and yet they all seem to be laughing. 

Maybe they can see the effort /

I am squeezing / from my legs like cheez whiz. 

It is quite funny / cartoonish /

soon // I / am / laughing ////// too. 

I saw that dog again. 

This time at the art museum / 

Dapper / in a black hat in the / bend of the / barely shapes of an abstract painting. 

Smiling dancing to / Miles Davis jazz. 

This time sticking its tongue out at me.