I’m still a sort of virgin. I’m still
in college. They leave behind swollen hickies,
belt marks, and Big Red gum. This is what I call
a true bond. Today, I have a weird anxiety attack at Wendy’s. My boobs
are swollen like a baby’s diaper, a Rembrandt perhaps. And my birthday
is a deathday for some: my best friend’s grandmother,
Princess Diana, my dog. Her snout drips
a greenish liquid, the stiffness
of her body saying thank you for the itchy wool sweater
I bury her in. To quote Psalm 23 is
maybe an opera in the wrong place. And now
a commercial where we scatter flowers on the grave.
My grandmother visits me in the hall mirror leading to the library.
I feel guilty afterward. Do I look trashy?
I’m craving boiled eggs or for a kiss
to throw me a record 37 times. For a few minutes,
I want a white girl’s symphony, to live
the Mamma Mia soundtrack and
wear the pink lace dress. If I could take
one vitamin, I’d notice
a little change in the blood. I want
to know temporary but comfortable
like a vapor caught in towel.




There is always a solution
to the nightmare about husbands:
eat a bag of frozen broccoli and have fellowship

with a bomb. You’ll never make a good wife.
You’re a cancer burst over dinner,
a fruit’s first haircut, the seeds—

tumors of stars in your womb. Feel guilty
about the chocolate pudding, give him
ideas about a weird game with your eggs and a piano.

Invite him to your mental cardboard, the dream
of miniature golf and pizza at the park. Maybe
this is God’s way of saying you’re carrying

a king. You have a physical on July 3rd.
You’ll wear a necklace and prepare
for the child of winter. God is

a nice guy. He suspects
nothing. You’ll go to the mountain,
count to ten. You’ll fall on the world
like an ugly music.



Diannely Antigua is a Dominican American poet and educator born and raised in Massachusetts. She received her B.A. in English from the University of Massachusetts Lowell, where she won the Jack Kerouac Creative Writing Scholarship. She is currently an MFA candidate at New York University and an Associate Poetry Editor for BOAAT. A Pushcart Prize nominee and winner of the Bodega Poetry Contest, her work appears or is forthcoming in Blue Earth Review, Day One, Vinyl, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. She lives in Brooklyn.