Poetry
peach \ off the water \ lookalike
peach
like a fruit so sickly sweet it sours
will my summer love for her go wrong
stone fruit seed of rotten juice desires
left so sticky in the sun
that one day when she blanches me bright
hot then cold to get the extra skin off
and slices me open
not surgical, with scrubs and double washes
but blunt knifed, fingers to finish the job
she’ll find me filled with ants
gorged to death and still from all i felt
off the water
in october all the breathless boys
begin to go varsity,
pump iron
in the chill their crewneck
sweaters seem just right
and they sweep and scull
right out the gate
the likes of which the American public
has never seen before!
round and firm like rocks
i’d never asked to see his chest
but he’s on all american knees
our best boy, asking
do i look good?
lookalike
in everything, it’s
is my jaw sharp, are
my hands looking good on the wheel
am i fit as a fiddle, whip-
cord.
would you touch me if you could ?
cause you don’t ask but
you looked
it’s everything
the way i’m splayed out
on a midriff summer
bed