(I wondered what happened to this poem. I found it hiding out in my music file, plotting its escape with the help of Veruca Salt.) He stumbled out of thin climate-controlled air,a belated debut in the doorway of sophomore English, day 8of … Continue reading All the Boys Hated Him
I meet with the young priest after Mass.He is black, shaves his head, lifts weights;his pinkies could splinter every weedywine-stained curb along NE Alberta. Outside, over peppermint tea and the fifty-degree windsbattering a JUST SAY NO banner, he fretsover modern cinema’s excess-cultureof nudity and futility and creative blasphemy.“Have you ever seen Last Year at Marienbad?” I shake my head. The wind absorbsthe receding slivers of tea-steam. I used to lovethis weather. The dab of lavender I’ve smeared into my scarfdoes nothing for my nerves. I am mash-lipped, jittering in rhythm to the flapping flag overhead. I am sickof myself. I … Continue reading star e. rose
Pieta Alone and alive inside myself, beside my fatherin the 6th Floor’s sprawling TV room; I’m halfwaythrough my final walk of the night, moreof a pained shuffle. Outside,everything is frost and darknesssave the death sentence imposed as if by lottery—to lay my head without question atop the stumpof an oak—it ends here—the swift slam of a cleaver:I swore sideways, upside down, even backwardsin French and the bishop, rejoicing, absolved my sins.I came back not much later, and he was gone.The new one cared only to condemn my queerness;my death was such a bore. Creation grovels out of agony,never love, and … Continue reading A Poem, Submitted for Your Approval. Or Bloodthirsty Ridicule. You decide!