Yagmur Akyurek
Imago Dei
We would love to know who you are, Steve
We suspect you have an affinity for languages
That you enjoy those old time-y luggages without the wheels
We love wheels, Steve
Going around town delights us
As does your graffiti, the tales of which amuse our rivers
Fish would be honored to hold your hand
Those famous fingers that are so in favor these days
We’d like to tip a cow in your honor
We believe the sounds of mystery should be felt-ed
We wait each week to see what message you will leave on the rock
Yes, we worship you, Steve, as we love that rock
The rock is where we like to sit and have a laugh
It’s where all this fat white light is emitted from
Which means you should be feeling a lot of emotions
Like pride, Steve
Like the most radiant salad has been served
Are you liking your salad, Steve
Would you rather it be something else, and not a salad
Do you ever find yourself on some plank or other, contemplating youth
Have the birds looked at you funny, too
Whose face, there
Which words you choose?
Yagmur Akyurek was born in Turkey, raised in Massachusetts, and now lives in New York. She is an MFA candidate in poetry at New York University, where she is a Rona Jaffe fellow and books editor at Washington Square Review. We would love to know who you are, Steve
We suspect you have an affinity for languages
That you enjoy those old time-y luggages without the wheels
We love wheels, Steve
Going around town delights us
As does your graffiti, the tales of which amuse our rivers
Fish would be honored to hold your hand
Those famous fingers that are so in favor these days
We’d like to tip a cow in your honor
We believe the sounds of mystery should be felt-ed
We wait each week to see what message you will leave on the rock
Yes, we worship you, Steve, as we love that rock
The rock is where we like to sit and have a laugh
It’s where all this fat white light is emitted from
Which means you should be feeling a lot of emotions
Like pride, Steve
Like the most radiant salad has been served
Are you liking your salad, Steve
Would you rather it be something else, and not a salad
Do you ever find yourself on some plank or other, contemplating youth
Have the birds looked at you funny, too
Whose face, there
Which words you choose?