Viewport width =
September 4, 2016 | by  | in Poetry |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Hera Lindsay Bird

Objectively speaking ‘Hera’ is a beautiful name

even if in formal situations you introduce yourself

forthwith: ‘Lindsay Bird’. A half lie

 

propagated before the whole

in which you deliver sincerely the lines:

“I am savant in the breeder business

I’m re-elongating pugs’ noses.”

 

With your hair pulled back

a nondescript audience—

nodding—fails to recognise you

Henceforth

 

one day I’d like to recite

a muffled myth of Oedipus

to you as Frank O’Hara’s cum

moves down my back—

with an apple in my mouth,

and through no opiate

 

I still think Keats would be up for it.  

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. SWAT
  2. Ravished by the Living Embodiment of All Our University Woes
  3. New Zealand’s First Rainbow Crossing is Here (and Queer)
  4. Chloe Has a Yarn About Mental Health
  5. “Stick with Vic” Makes “Insulting” and “Upsetting” Comments
  6. Presidential Address
  7. Final Review
  8. Tears Fall, and Sea Levels Rise
  9. It’s Fall in my Heart
  10. Queer Coverage: Local, National, and International LGBTQIA+ News
Website-Cover-Photo7

Editor's Pick

This Ain’t a Scene it’s a Goddamned Arm Wrestle

: Interior – Industrial Soviet Beerhall – Night It was late November and cold as hell when I stumbled into the Zhiguli Beer Hall. I was in Moscow, about to take the trans-Mongolian rail line to Beijing, and after finding someone in my hostel who could speak English, had decided