Poor Claudia published poetry, prose and conversations online and in print from 2009 to 2018.

Daniel Beauregard

Three Poems

  • snowfolk
  • fokken natuur
  • bathing in gold


The soldiers were getting sick
of horsemeat. Last night, I heard
a baby gurgle but there are no babies
in this house, nor horses nor meat.
The soldiers used to be lesbians in
college but they’ve settled down now.
what do you tell your friend
when his friend is dying?
At this point I’d like to say something
about Castrati. Berrigan was a Pepsi
drinker. The first time I ever got a lollipop
was from the bank yesterday. There were only
good things back then. But now, the snowmen
are all gender neutral and there is so much
shit in our meat.

fokken natuur

You trade your pod for life basically
swamp mallow grows by a hole in
the boardwalk and what great land
do you come from (chug-a-lug)
I am dying (chug-a-lug) when will
I decide the colors of the beads of the
abacus of the something like beef
inside me which type of palsy
do you pray summon my windfall
forces to plug the waterspouts of
the lower piedmont my skin
I wish I could remember which eagle
I flew in on. In the corner sits there
sleeping your eye half open like a dream
I wish I could remember an eagle looks
like what I know when the leaves tremble
it’s Zeus telling me a bedtime story
remember when I told you that?

bathing in gold

lying here ice-cold ginger ale and hot
water feels like so Ahh. I close my eyes
imagine two dragons fucking on a bed
of gold then tell myself it’s OK to stand
up naked and walk toward the window
to fixate for a moment on the fuzzy
limbs of a persimmon then sit back down
ass-first, giving myself permission to orange.

Daniel Beauregard

Daniel Beauregard lives in Atlanta, where he works for a local newspaper. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in ILK, Jellyfish, Spittoon, Brown God, Keep This Bag Away From Children and elsewhere. His chapbook Before You Were Born will be released in December by 421 Atlanta Press. Follow him @666ICECREAM.