"Dos Perros" and "Diets and Defeat"
by Crystal Simone Smith
In the downtown rebuild I sip a café latte in a silver chair that’s chained to a building, my eyes measuring the length for slack. The sun’s burn just on the edge of my wedge of shade, I’ll need to move soon. Across the street, another new restaurant has popped up, Dos Perros. On the window’s logo, two dogs sit side by side a red fire hydrant. I sit alluded. Why call a restaurant, Two Dogs? Can’t say I ever think of dogs when eating nachos. I never think of dogs, except when I pass them latched on the leashes that keep them from me so I stay safe and superior. The sun is indeed intensifying.
Diets and Defeat
After nine, she eats a bag of Lays, basically lying down. Her head pillow-propped enough to chew. She doesn’t care about no-carb carrots anymore. Did she before? No⎯ just about how thin they could keep you for a man. A man she screamed at so loud last night her ears rung. Screamed something like ‘dead’. Meaning ‘this marriage feels dead’. He said nothing, which she took as permission to die then already. Tonight he frolics in the office. She watches the Grammys⎯ Justin Beiber’s acoustic set of Baby, Baby, Baby, which makes her feel faintly romantic and deeply aged.
|Crystal Simone Smith is a graphic designer, artist, and poet. Her poems have appeared in The African American Review, Southern Women’s Review, Louisiana Literature, Obsidian III: Literature in the African Diaspora and are forthcoming in Spillway and Nimrod. She was nominated for a 2012 pushcart prize. She holds an MFA from Queens University of Charlotte and is a member of the Carolina African American Writers Collective.|