Daria Ukiyo-e

^{after Tada Chimako & Susanne Sundfør}

A herd of beautiful wild 
ponies running free 
across the plains.

^{Daria, S01E01 – “Esteemsters”}

( A sprawling falling dream.
   Pain meds. ‘Hi, I’m Aristilde
     -til-duh. Go to hell.’ Swell. )

My surgeon says I’m a  
less is more kinda gal.
A galgalim face glitch,

     i, Head of Rest at Boy
     Division Corps rest in
     a cephalic past’s lap,

who combs loose static from my
hair, seeing wild
ink helix between
teeth thread a void millipede.

    She pulls it off, to scrawl on
    jaw bra & gauze,
    heavy paraffin, 
    honey-gravid, red-cross grade,

then, twin nightstands like one mo’ gin.
Leftward, bromelain with
leopard-bane pill sachets 
& Neosporin like lady 
ferns in spring. 

    Plantains caramelized look like
    Kali tongues severed in squared
    tin. I can make out, winched
    in windlass’ plate, from throat, my
    ore petals.

Rhomboid warp-slant sunrub
cast ghostglas simmers your
felt shade’s grav on my sleep.

    Visitor, be a dear,
    blend my ruminates so
    I can repass at wake?

Arca’s chrysanthemum arcs from
my dresser mirror over
the vocal shield I never use.
My song is here somewhere,
just as well.

   An onyx zebra print blackout 
   curtain, posters of Bibbe,
   Amélie, Vajrayogini,
   Carrie’s moon pix, Jobi’s
   fleshrealm pain

-ting! Time to realize that life
gives all a slab 
of sad sard to carve to cute
work. Leftwardest,

   Butterfly bisque in teacup
   by mannerist 
   bedside plits a slight gyre with
   dead fire alarm tears. 

Aments in sigh by black
Bedstuy poplars make us
crane, respire to be them.

   Blow me, a floating 
   girl, La~la~La~la~La,
   ha! in the floating world. 

( The last episode plays.
   &: in my Notepad, a 
     splat angelgnat. Okay~ )
    
          『     Don’t 
                 touch 
                     that 
                 dial,
                     ne?     』
 

A herd of beautiful wild 
ponies running free 
across the plains.

^{Daria, S05E13 – “Boxing Daria”} 

Copyright © 2024 by Aristilde Kirby. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 11, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets. 

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“I wrote this in late 2023, dreaming of what the healing process in my room would look like when I got facial feminization surgery on my birthday in April 2024. The poem’s evolved several fold since giving this to Sawako. It is now ten pages and perfected, called ‘D’aria Ukiyo-e Prime.’ This draft is D’aria Ukiyo-e +2. Ukiyo-e is a genre of Japanese painting known for flat, bold lines and colorful, sweeping perspectives in large, multipart formats. Ukiyo is translated as ‘floating world,’ homophonic with the ancient Buddhist term meaning ‘this world of sorrow and grief.’ The term also connote[s] the erotic and stylish, like me.”
—Aristilde Kirby