A sage poet slouched at his splintered green typewriter,
A man in a maroon jersey moving around the fountainhead,
An elderly person people watching in her tri-paneled trainer,
An indie band incantating a lost lover through idealization,
And, a beautiful man, around my age, halting my alliterative observations.
With two silver hoop earrings in each earlobe and a
Perfectly cropped mustache, he sits across from me.
He’s eating a sandwich with a fork and knife, how proper,
Talking with his hands, a utensilien hail mary with each exclamation.
I’m not sure what he's talking about but he seems passionate.
When I look up there are many crosses erect upon rooftops.
Even in New York you cannot escape the eyes of god.
Those eyes bring me back to Texas and remind me I am a
Sinful Sodomite. A flamboyant Flit. A fucking Faggot. I look away.
Perhaps, one day, I will get far enough away from that shameful gaze.
ABOUT:
Chase Shriver is a queer poet, teacher, and yoga enthusiast whose work captures the beauty and complexity of life through romantic and occasionally erotic themes. His poetry examines love, identity, and the intimate moments that shape the human experience, offering a poignant exploration of queer relationships. Chase’s writing invites readers to appreciate often-overlooked perspectives, revealing a world filled with depth, beauty, and tenderness. Follow on Instagram @chase_thee_poet and Substack @chasetheepoet.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Lost Boy — Look Away
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