Four Nicknames and a Uterus

Desi wiped sweat all over the front of his white shirt as I scream about how hot the pavement is – and he hates it – the word pavement. It reminds him of being in his 20’s, when the woman he loved fucked their mutual friend in their home in their bed more than once….

Blood Orange

His face is a fistful of oranges. I enter           an apostrophe where the curve of his nose should be – a swarm of flies from the blood pooling in his cupids bow, a hive of bees stealing glances from his pelvis, Why are you so honey? I ask him as if…

Hollywood Mus(e)ic

It must hurt to be him. A Sun King embalmed into one, specific love. Married to the widow and jumping coasts as if all things were fine full floating feral, of all things – ferociously virile and written into the strategy of superior design,           he wanders the streets again, Only…

Hybrid Florae

You left your handwriting on a restroom wall in fuchsia ink,grimy prints from blood bitten lips       Damon & Soto, quickto fashion James Dean – if he were bougainvillea and lacedhis own lungs with hybrid florae You’re as dirty as the street corner      I’m impatient,anticipating what impulsive words you’ll soil next, tripping…