Letter from Vacuum

in Poetry
By Karla Cordero


Your carpet is a landfill Everything tastes broken and bitter

There is no happy in your filth

VacuumI choke on the bones of pet hamsters you forgot to feed

Bruise my self-esteem on beer cap edges, gravel from last week’s rainfall, brown apple cores, crooked safety pins

The goldfish continues to cough up kitchen grease   

I drown in pencil shavings, abandoned promise ring, burnt popcorn crumbs, bloody band-aids, loose hair pulled by anger

The manual says I am not meant to swallow living room hurricanes

Tragedy is a mouth full of dry flower petals, a moth with a damaged wing, candle wax tears, eyelashes left homeless, chipped wall paint

There’s a gallon of lavender and brushes in the closet I know you keep ignoring

Your shadow left two days ago Your smile hitchhiked to a face that knows the touch of laughter

I am simply tired, tired of picking up memories soaked in cobweb ashes and I am sorry

I will no longer digest your ugly


About Karla Cordero:

After spending 18 years of my life in a hot little border town called Calexico, California, I moved to San Marcos in search of opportunity. I studied at Cal State San Marcos, served as the event coordinator for the campus Creative Writing Community and Workshop, and graduated in 2012 with a B.A. in Liberal Studies, with an emphasis in Literature and Writing.

My poetry has been published in The Palm MagazineOh Cat, and in several chapbooks, and I have written for Depict Art Magazine. I have also organized social justice-themed readings, and I am currently writing toward an MFA in Creative Writing at San Diego State.

I perform as a spoken word poet throughout San Diego County, sharing humorous yet evocative metaphors for feminism, violence against women, and my experiences as an Hispanic woman.

Eve Ensler is my hero!


Photo credit: Daniel Oines via a Creative Commons license.