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THREE POEMS by nat raum


hi everybody i am looking for the things

i think are missing inside me because

that’s what everyone else cited as my fatal

flaw: not enough. of what? i don’t really know

what i’m looking for but i’m open to learning,

from everyone and anyone who looks my way,

exactly what is wrong with me. hit me

up if you can help with something like this

and we’ll make it work.


i am selling the shroud that falls

upon me when i should be embarrassed—

it served me well, but i don’t think need it

anymore. great used condition; well-loved,

but a lot of life left. taking up space on the

shelf next to a secret agent barbie CD-ROM.

pickup only, please? my body isn’t broken down

just yet, but i’m planning for the day when

i creak like a floorboard and screech like a muffler

skimming the speed bumps on my street.


this friday afternoon i will be under

a sycamore in the park outside

of my apartment with a variety of things

i’ve convinced myself to part with, including:

jingle bell stick, flamingo painting,

flat half-consumed ginger beer,

a Razzy Bailey record, half the candles

on my coffee table, everything that came

with Kinder eggs, two mini cacti, expired

canned beets, a drawing of a sinister

blob i never gave my ex, and maybe

an overshare if you talk to me nice enough.


nat raum (b. 1996) is a disabled artist, writer, and genderless disaster from Baltimore, MD. They’re a current MFA candidate at the University of Baltimore and also hold a BFA in photography and book arts. nat is also the editor-in-chief of fifth wheel press and managing editor of Welter Journal, as well as the author of preparatory school for the end of the world, you stupid slut, and specter dust. Past and upcoming publishers of their writing include Olney Magazine, perhappened, CLOVES, and trampset. Find them online:

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