“Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,’
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for the darkness is as light with you.”
Henry, seated at the dining room table before his parents, hadn’t thought it possible to dwindle in size. Hunched, certainly. Even to physically shrink seemed plausible, but to diminish in stature, to helplessly allow his self-confidence to wane was heartbreaking. Once his mother, wrapped in the…
“Some day, you will ache like I ache.” — Courtney Love
I’m uncertain I want to be liberated
I derive delicious melancholy
pining for you from afar
dipping myself, my precious energy
into the muddy banks of your whip-smart charm
I hesitate to persevere, I’m too obsessed
with your crooked, precocious grin
your adorable, involuntary tics
when you brush away a lock of hair
when you nervously rub your face
exposing your raw, bloodshot eyes
You don’t deserve this control over me
You didn’t earn this dominance over this stubborn gay, no
amount of shirtless pics, lingering shots of your enticing nipples
*from the abandoned intersection of 18th Avenue and Grangeville Boulevard*
my faith is rather dull
my Lord and Savior
can’t help but pick at their teeth
file their nails and consult their pearly-white schedules
for the next mind-numbing calamity
my hobbies are incredibly formulaic
watching gnats and bits of dust
drown in my tepid medium roast, no cream
piles of books left unread, unloved
my lovely array of facemasks
begging for another wash
my gay/queer friends and I are slated
for corporate consumption
doused in rich, velvety sauce
consisting of trademarked rainbow flags,
imprinted Queer Eye emblems, Absolut Vodka,
Ritz crackers, and…
in thick salves of aloe vera
anoint our frizzled hair
with tea tree oil
and sink into
the crisp crevices
of freshly-laundered sheets.
He asked his friends
to ignore the half-assed bitemarks
adorning the side of his neck
and gloss over
the film of grease and sweat
coating his cheeks and chin
from going down on his lover.
bookmark our novels
by cheekily folding the pages’ corners
stumble out of bed
in fits of apathy and panic
clawing for the light switch
and climb into the car
sink into the front seat
and rest our fevered…
We are haunted
by her absence.
dearest matriarchal keeper
nursing a mug of ginger tea
It hasn’t reached her lips yet.
the emotional watchmen
scribbling indecipherable letters
furiously editing their illegible paragraphs
Our home is haunted
by her absence
the sorceress of paper dolls and tag
occupies herself with braiding Miss Sherry’s hair
her back slightly bent, guarding her side of the room.
a growing boy of stone-cold expressions
grumbles in bed, throwing his tattered baseball
into the stilted air of his confined space, a suffocating chasm.
This town is haunted
by her absence.
Our rich blood
refuses to coagulate.
It will flood
your idyllic suburbia.
your chapped lips
ragged from your nervous licking
your sickly, sweaty sheen
far from discreet
Deal with it.
Our death throes
will instigate earthquakes.
Your vast, sprawling lots
are our beautiful gardens.
We decline your appeasement.
We wish not to be displaced.
Are you not my brother?
Am I not your son?
Are they not your daughters?
Are you not our parents?
Amidst our strangled weeping,
our hands are raised.
Our battered, stinking vessels
weather the frigid nightfall.
glaring at the gleaming, towering cliffs
we weren’t meant to…
though shall not covet
though shall not lust
muddied brown eyes
the shade of His fingers
painting sight onto the Blind Man
cloaked in sturdy sackcloth
your left sandal
hanging by tattered straps
no, Joseph wouldn’t approve of us at all
honor thy father
honor thy mother
you didn’t tell me
you had a martyr for a sibling
on a dusty limestone
overlooking your desolate homeland
tucking your ordinary coat into your abdomen
it wasn’t as flamboyant or brash
as that cherished gift from Father Jacob
I drink your grief
Aspiring novelist and amateur poet and op-ed writer on gay/queer/GSM topics. CA —> MN —> ? Stick around if I haven’t bored you yet.