By heidi andrea restrepo rhodes
I: My beloved is called an inconceivable beast, a spectacle diagnosed with teratoid genitalia, a chaos…
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- By Darrel Alejandro HolnesThis love dares not speak its name
in some states
until your eyes say it
on a beach in Ft. Lauderdale… - By Richard BlancoAfter my third shot of tequila / chased by a lime
sour as my rant: fuck this-fuck that-fuck them-fuck… - By Brandon YoungMy father said to me once your only choices are the factories. Oil stains or
the selfsame bruises. No longings for the night. Looking back I think of
things I could have done differently ... Sure, it could have all been different,
but what’s the use now, when all... - By Brandon YoungOh, don’t worry, we will let our hair down tonight—
but first we must remember on this stage, the queen
we lost, who they killed not too far from here
just... - By Alexis De VeauxI pray for us
as evening glides over
implore the gods
pray for us pray
for this breathing
planet the milky way
dreams us
into galaxy
no need for heaven this
is how it started:
way out beyond we
below
the sweet of your lips
dipped in promise
anxieties claim us
bark and skin
what we... - By R. Erica Doyleletting the words fly like smoke uncurling from our mouths
we lie in bed with dykes ten years our junior, make
pot heaps to share, sleep in the same flannel sheets,
plot colored artist collaborations underground and not top 40,
draw the constellations from... - By K. IverAt my beloved’s burial,
I can’t see his body.
Only carnations. I hear
your name and my beloved’s
in the … - By Cyrus CassellsMy friend is by no means Dracula or a werewolf,
but the full moon’s mostly lawless beauty
has never failed to tantalize him,
to lure him outdoors.
Tonight the gallivanting moon,
all systems go,
makes a pallid cascade in the Roman street,
while my spirited mentor relates,
over... - By Melvin DixonThe children in the life:
Another telephone call. Another man gone.
How many pages are left in my diary?
Do I have enough pencils? Enough ink?
I count on my fingers and toes the past kisses,
the incubating years, the months ahead.
Thousands. Many thousands
Many thousands... - By Eduardo Martinez-LeyvaMost wounds are circles, so it’s no surprise
you’ll find me here. Alone. On my knees, on evenings
when the moon hangs low. The brown boy
behind the hole—not quite the size
of a cave or a cigarette burn. Splitting open
my lips the way... - By Bruce SniderNo matter who leads tonight, who follows,
I feel his stare as we work the floor.
He swaggers from heel to toe.
Is it his smile?
Or his eyes I can’t ignore?
Even the lights wink, catching the pearled
buttons on his black paisley shirt.
The whole... - By Destiny O. Birdsongthe women, small and neat,
top each other like
slices of wonder bread.
when she and i
finally meet,
we knead each other—
fresh dough—
adjusting our
rehearsed finger-tread.
outside, magnolias
cup their sepals
like good hands.
inside, we spade
like leaves: tenderly,
and only at each other’s bidding.
when my sister
stopped speaking to me,
what... - By Timothy LiuComing back
from the ski trip
in the back of a van,
it had gotten dark
enough for
the steady hum
of the engine
to lull us all
into a deep sleep—
my best friend
and I having
the backseat
all to ourselves.
Have you ever felt
your body starting
to lean toward
its truest
intentions—head
hoping hard
for... - By Stacie CassarinoI admired the sea, most days,
but not the heirs or millionaires
sailing in stiff-capped winds,
buttoned for summer. After all,
we were the spectacle, two women
touching in all the wrong places,
furnishing rooms with no children
in the hull of a house gone still.
She had... - By Trish Salahi.
Dog. The time you take home, the time you take away from home.
The insistence, the instance worried at with your thick tongue.
Stink. Because of what you found on the ground and put in your gut.
Harry. As in beset, or beast.... - By Richie HofmannMy sweat soaked the sheets.
You used to be like everyone else
but then
the way you hurt me (fingers, teeth):
I grew accustomed to it
then I craved it
then I got bored
and other men tried to put death into my mouth.
Angelic Richie with bite... - By sam saxeven without the image you can see it.
dean, black booted, bedroom-eyed
hair coiffed into its iconic pompadour.
he holds a hat turned up to the sky.
sty littered with corn husks. big animal
standing beside him. i’ve never seen
his films but know his shape.... - By Assotto Saintwhere
do you find
strength
to climb
down the hill
to your lover’s
grave
what
do you bring
but thirteen years
of memories/
how do you deal
with his death
when your gasps
loom
in the autumn air
like circling crows
spasms rock
your body
like squirrels
shake the scarlet oak
& purple dogwood
branches
while through the buzz
of a helicopter
the roar
of an... - By Assotto Saintstraddle
a stranger’s head
slide your dick
’tween licking lips
his throat takes it
sweet & deep
pump his face
ride on
you tense up
he bites down
to prevent you
from pulling out
c’mon
unclamp his teeth
shut your eyes
shoot
standing
he whispers
“why didn’t you
give me the load”
eyebrows raised
button your 501s
pat his back
hurry home
fingers
crusted with...