‘mouse’ & ‘the ballad of mona lisa’

Lydian Humphries is a multidisciplinary artist living in Flanders, New Jersey. If not hunched over his next project, he can be found enjoying a cup of tea with a cat in his lap.

mouse

the best gift i received
recently was a handful
of lint. my computer
mouse is fostered
by my dear friend
whose own is lost in
the depths of a library,
on some work table,
maybe never seen again.
another friend works
at a different library
and he takes abandoned
water bottles home,
so i wonder if it, too,
has been adopted.
the sensors in well
-loved mice work
sparingly, with jarring
movements across
virtual monitor seas.
with a handful less
lint, they might
be free.

the ballad of mona lisa

there's a version of her that looks like my mother
all middle parted black hair and unsmiling eyes
she was tuesday lunchlady and recess supervisor
now, she stars in my stress dreams about forced acupuncture

there's a version of her that looks like my first grade teacher
all middle parted black hair and compassion in her smile
she taught me how to count change
and counted on me to keep changing

there's a version of her that looks like home
moss-colored smock like my old heated blanket
veil as my foggy bathroom mirror

i can't say that i belong in the renaissance
all my queerness and disability allegedly won't fit
but maybe—maybe—she belongs here, with me

Mal Virich is a queer, non-binary, autistic, and disabled poet who tends to ruminate on self-identity, trauma, and the profound impacts of interpersonal relationships. Their debut chapbook a vivid dreaming was published in November 2024 by Bottlecap Press. They are currently in their fourth year of their undergraduate degree, studying creative writing, Spanish, and Chican@/Latin@ studies. Alongside their studies, they are a peer advisor and poetry reader for The Madison Review. www.malvirich.com