Aplomb is the Most Tender Word by Sophia Le Fraga

BOMB 149 Fall 2019
bomb magazine fall 149

This is my love letter
To Sun from Sense8
Blue Dream marijuana
And the Grammarly plugin
I should never write
When I’m high
But that’s when I do it
Arrest me
I hate the Soho House
But I would bring you there
To take pictures by the pool
Where they’re not allowed
Some of my ideas are crap
So my handle is fitting
I tagged you in a post
But deleted it later
It’s easier to be stunning
Once you’ve dropped out
Of a grad school
Where everyone’s important
“Feminism never looked so Monsanto”
Is an actual thing someone said
About one of my poems
In a gorgeous avant-garden of
Bells and crystal lights
The plastic is sharp but marvelous
Pink like a vine of bougainvilleas
And that fluorescent nail polish
Called “sugar baby”
From the Vietnamese-owned salon
I’m so obsessed with this weather
I think it deserves its own website
Wouldn’t you agree?
It seems like the heat
Has weirded some people out
What is it with millennials
And wanting to die?
I’d like to feel
Alert and relaxed
Self-confident and assured
Empathetic and in love
Sweeping my soft fingers
Through my lover’s soft hair
I really wish Sun from Sense8
Could see me right now
Eating this mango
In a foreign lobby
Would you like to smoke a doob
On the bed
Where I sleep?
The most annoying thing
A friend can do is start a sentence
With “First of all”
I wonder if my followers agree
Typing this out
What I think I will miss
The most when I die
Is language
And the shapes of letters
How the words sometimes come
When you’re peeling a carrot
Or you hear its sound
While squinting at the sun
I mean
I’m obsessed with the weather
It’s what brought me
Out to California
Where I expect too much
But how could I not
From this ‘grammable stretch
Thinking back to the vertical
Blocks of New York
I’m here to tell you
The future happened
Sixteen years ago
And honestly it sucked
I should drive across Sunset
Looking for a hot dog
Because I know pleasure
Is more real than love
I should take an aerial class
Because grace is even realer than pleasure
It feels so real when I look at the calves
Of the blonde girl beside me
The calves of Sun from Sense8
In her skinny black jeans
And her blue denim blouse
Whatever comes from Netflix and chill
Is I think what I want
Also 90 grand a year
Without anyone dying
I’d be really happy
It’s beautiful to be easy like
I chose not to argue
Because she paid for the suite
At the Standard Hotel
A little girl walked up
And asked if I was anyone’s mother
I want to go
Where men go
Maybe this is the night
One of my tweets will go viral
In 2009 you emailed me
Eighty-two times
I have a great idea
Of making a video
Of the last 10 seconds
Of each episode
Of Jeopardy!
Where the contestants
Do or don’t
Shake hands
When I watch the show
And get really into a category
I sometimes feel like
I’m inside the box
A world of green and yellow light
Sometimes I wish
I could live in that box
And look out
To other people’s living rooms
Where their living happens
And be a part of it
When I walk barefoot
Along the beach in Malibu
I feel like Truman by the water
And I feel like Sylvia who wants
To tell him the truth
I think I could be that person
When the light hits the palm trees
On Van Ness
It’s like I don’t care
For a second
So forever, so at all
The wind brushes my hair and
The air is silent
It feels like a film
By Paramount Pictures
Where things
Dissipate into particles
Of self-confidence
And yellow-green light
I don’t think about Sun
From the show that much
About pot or plugins
Or even tv
I should FaceTime my friend
She lives in Berlin
And dances into the night

Sophia Le Fraga is the author of literallydead, founding editor of No Issue, and host of “Having a Smoke With You.”

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Originally published in

BOMB 149, Fall 2019

Featuring interviews with Korakrit Arunanondchai, Antoine Catala and Dan Graham, Atelier Bow-Wow, American Artist, Jeff Bliumis, James N. Kienitz Wilkins, Rion Amilcar Scott, and Carmen Giménez Smith.

Read the issue
bomb magazine fall 149