I can see the bullet wound on her bicep
jerking with her shoulders, her head.
She told me she earned that scar
during the Egyptian revolution.
A story so badass, she earned
my immediate forgiveness
for the Airbnb listing that tricked us
into sharing this studio with her.
But now she’s sucking a random guy’s
fingers, moaning over the taste of herself
in a bed that was barely separated
from ours with a thin beaded curtain,
until my five year old tore it to pieces
in a tantrum I know longer feel sorry for.
I can’t believe this cost a hundred bucks,
I whisper to my girlfriend,
who cannot hear me above the fella
unloading into our Superhost.
She stares at the ceiling, counting
enough sheep to keep my daughter asleep.
Tomorrow I’m stealing her expensive
tins of Trader Joe’s jackfruit. Bitch.
Carson Wolfe is a Mancunian poet. In 2021, they were an Aurora prize winner, and a Button video contest winner. Their work has appeared with Fourteen Poems, The Penn Review, and Hobart. Their poetry is forthcoming with Rattle, and Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice anthology (Button, 2023). You can find them on Instagram @vincentvanbutch.
Angel Rust 