CW: Queer sexual content
I was a sophomore when God commissioned me to write this.
Only problem is that then They disappeared.
Folded-up shop & poof-vanished!
No forthcoming payment. Gone & closed the doors,
no more words. Location undisclosed. I was never a believer,
a good one, anyway. Never could subscribe to anything I was told to.
Seems like the only thing I can stick to is doubting.
What do you think? Going to all-boys school for high school
should have been a trip to the candy shop. But it was not.
& not because of the Jesuits (I give them credit,
they really did get it) but I was too guilt-blind to know
what I wanted, let alone act on anything legit.
Didn’t even have sex ‘til I was 20 & back then that was gay ages.
& EJ, god bless him, patted my back while I hyperventilated
into a brown liquor bag, Aladdin blaring on the dinky dorm TV
behind us. Bottoming was a whole new world, but not
a magic carpet ride (at least not for me, not that first time).
Almost had to call the R.A. there for a second,
but calmed myself with three measured breaths:
IN-OUT. IN-OUT. IN-OUT. The thin paper crinkled.
Still he sat with me, rubbing my heaving back like a lamp.
I wonder what I wished then with each gasp.
Was it that God couldn’t see me?
Or just more wishes?
Wish I could ask Them.
Adrian Dallas Frandle (he/they) is a poet & queerdo cook. A poetry reader for Okay Donkey Lit Mag/Press, they have poems in HAD, Daily Drunk Mag's "Marvelous Verses" print anthology, Feed Lit Mag, & Celestite Poetry Journal. Work forthcoming in Rejection Letters, Olney Mag, GutSlut Press, the “Hell Is Real” Anthology & elsewhere. Tweets: @adrianf