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Hi, I'm Daniel Riggins, a fourth-year medical student living in the Bronx.

danielriggins.com

 

She used to climb the mango trees
with rope looped around her waist.
The bees would buzz around her head, drunk
on the scent of rotten fruit.
She liked to trap them in zip-lock bags
so she could eye their stingers up close.

 

I can recognize the feeling now--when I get all feathered up in a puff; when I get fixated on my next regurgitational attack--forgetting that people are people that I could love.

 

I'm always clenching my everything.

 

Who forgot to cube that orange and eat it? Why is it whole on its own?

 

Part 3 of my Miami Beach flash poems, read the ongoing collection here (https://paper.dropbox.com/doc/Miami-Beach-Poems-6fCU80zJhEm0dqAvt9WTb)

one Airbnb,
two rooms, three beds,
and five dudes;
sounds of snoring bubble
into my dreams;

in an early hour, I wake
to hear one loud SMACK
against a mattress
in other room--

the snoring stops;

I drift back to sleep, fearing
that I could be next

 

Part 2 of Miami Beach Flash Poems

lady walks up to the edge
of my sand fort and
asks me what I’m doing;

I tell her--
“I just like digging holes,”

she walks away muttering--
“he’s weird”

I kick back in the cool shade
of my creation
and take it as a compliment

(https://paper.dropbox.com/doc/Miami-Beach-Poems-6fCU80zJhEm0dqAvt9WTb)

 

First flash poem in a series on Miami Beach:

drifting jellyfish drives swimmers
from the water like cascades of dominoes,

man wraps a towel
around his muscular arm
and nudges the jelly out to sea;

woman asks--
“is he single?”

 

Along with being funny-as-hell, Aziz Ansari's "Master of None" led me to seriously reevaluate my personal words/choices in a new light. It features a decidedly millennial perspective that feels truthful, while also hungrily seeking voices from all sorts of other backgrounds. It made me laugh a lot, and then I thought a lot. It's on Netflix. Check it out.

 

September is Chronic Pain Awareness Month. Pain is the classic *invisible illness*. You likely have a close loved one who suffers from chronic pain. While likely at the forefront of their daily consciousness, you might rarely think about it. I think this is a good time to remember empathy for *anyone* whose daily struggles are not immediately apparent.

 

91 degrees in Harlem
=================

one of those days
when ancient chewing gum
scuffed into the sidewalk
blisters up hot--

angrily glopping to the undersides
of your shoes;

folks brandish super-soakers
on street corners--
spraying friends and strangers
with equal ambition
and everyone is grateful;

I turn my eyes to children--
how they tromp about in water-shoes,
just in case a fire hydrant
erupts in their paths--

and I hope they can always wear
such soggy and secure abandon