MICHAEL CHANG
(CW: sexual content)
COCO CHANEL SEARCH & RESCUE
this 互相傷害
this reciprocal torture
bird brain
if you have this idea, i can, too
our sameness led us to fight, leads to these rows
you are a task, one that requires intense concentration but brings near-immediate relief
like pulling a splinter from a paw
you keep asking what i want but your two heads are distracting
a contract requires an offer & an acceptance
you broke it
GIN & MILK
in canada the drinking age varies across provinces & territories; could u imagine not caring across provinces?; exactement; nubile wunderkammer; package of sex overflowing at the front; pulverize me; detach from me only after u have come; i reveal too much to u; r u a witch; u think i am obsessive monster; i obsess over ur moons; ur rich semen; ur warpath, ur fabled instruments of destruction; ur wit, ur abundance; some foreign attachment; emerging from behind a zipper; w/o so much as a sigh; it is true obscenity; the tie-dyed terry cloth hugging his cock; thru the fabric looking like a hose; drinking him, devouring his progeny; the air is murderous; sometimes, when ur given a sign, it’s ur obligation to recognize it; to act on it; there is nothing i am looking forward to but going to the cheese shop; in total obscurity; swallowed by cheeses; the pungent smells; i can accept it but i wouldn’t say that i’m fine with it; what could be sadder than toting a bag of salad; acquitted; my dignity remains intact
STILL LIFE WITH SUNGLASSES AT NITE
“I am not empty; I am open” —Tranströmer (tr. Patty Crane)
whiteboys at meijer
boisterous & bare-chested
the familiar procession like rows of corn
or an affirmative-action protest
or deleted body-cam footage
the chosen one
reverse racism! in the flesh
opens like a fan
he gives in w/o violence
buys me vitaminwater & a pet lobster
reads a poem referring to mt. fuji as—simply!—fuji!
it makes me laugh, fuji like last-name-only boys
their flanks hard & shapely
he puts some cheese on a nice plate, makes it taste good—presentation is everything
we consummate our love after watching the 2013 documentary blackfish
i am briefly his stooge, we harvest the purest form of love
he smiles tight as a muzzle, grins only make sense on white faces
need to break this all-or-nothing habit
you know what they say
white ppl masters at self-hypnosis
tall boys need bigger coffins
明太子 MENTAIKO
the chinese character for poetry is the death of a party // how they changed the weather for the olympics // the ballpeen // bad head + a beef bowl // the word seminal makes me laugh // let the cum rest inside ur eyelids // forever starts when u stop caring // community is cute when u have nothing else // like the inside of a martian // rows of stuffed animals // move to england // make some tea // it’s really going to happen soon // u didn’t do anything wrong // not really // ashbery i like but u kinda have to read it in a haze // frank’s cold water flat let it wash over u // kleinzahler u don’t even have to be sober // read it + watch mtv // poets love to tremble // murmur my 心路历程 // i just remembered a bad experience with someone named lavinia // it’s really rude to ask someone what do u feed that thing // ur prodigious touching + tugging on his organism // some poems are just lists of fungi // u say welfare // i think milk subsidies // we neck // we fog // we furious // we contrail // fire up the cuisinart // a poetic resignation letter // release the hounds // we are lost bunnies // man ray’s room service cart // liberace’s valet // blackmailing everyone in the building // i want to attract crystals // lavender + blush + disgusting limoncello // wonton boys wanton emulsions // so much meat // every word of this is bullshit
TOO GOOD FOR YOU & OTHER STORIES
“I think I made you up inside my head” —Sylvia Plath
too old to be a wunderkind. too cute to be a golem
i staged my bedroom to look like yours—more comfortable when we make babies
come feed me with your fingers. most men can’t see past the curls
god’s plan a dog’s breakfast—is it not in your service that i codeswitch from brilliant to genius
don’t be a drag. ride me like a rickshaw
is boring. she has a flash of insight once every 40 years
having received visual confirmation. this proof of life
you put out. tell him you’re horny in a stage whisper
once you’ve dispensed with—disposed of—the operative
you’re ready for the seafood special. that afternoon d-lite
you nitpick. look for bones in egg whites. i wanna hang out with you & your rainbow slides
poets love segments & orange anything—john’s sucking & fucking—now i have a bone to pick
it isn’t distracting if romance is the goal (romance should always be the goal)
wait for a sign. so big & ballsy
☺☺☺
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