The weight of winter, hard on every cloud
dropping low on this city, and soon
and falling white
from a vulnerable sky,
the first shade of darkness
prolonging the night.
A soft wavering voice
Against the wind —
published at Thirty West Publishing House
Uncertainty drills hard
and leaves a hole on the page, where
gravity pulls —
Verses have fallen, words broken,
a pile of cut images.
published on the New English Review
It must have been too much alcohol,
even your look becomes suddenly
and full of the promise
of a summer’s night.
I’m longing to have you,
here and now
before the harsh daylight steals you away
and I might never see you again.
Anyway that’s the game,
a sweet but ruthless encounter
with no tomorrow
for queers like us in this all-embracing land.
But I like you tonight –
that’s why this empty bar
does call for something more intimate
your half-open shirt—
Your creamy chest—
O the rushing sound
deep inside my veins!
It’s been too good a night to let you flee,
just stay a while longer—
If you desire admiration,
from all men before and after me,
I have nothing better now
than my loneliness
in a promiscuous life,
I’ve given it to you.
Published on The New English Review