Bisexual Ephemera I
I ghost through towns like a stranger’s obituary
a subtle wanting to be seen
I ghoul across garish, sun-swept asphalt
loath the jaw tightened in the shop windows
I smear my name in freshly poured cement
on the cusp of nightfall
clawing initials to linger awhile longer here
I hold everything human & yet am less than man.
I unlearn my want to make the world part & make room for me.
Feel me wisp & float by, morose
as an unmarked grave
Feel me tender & brutish, call me
Feel me sparse & haunted, unable
to claim but one face
To be human is to wholly contradict the shadow of God.
To be beast is to innately know the shape of hunger.
Bisexual Ephemera II
your mother’s favorite male social whore
your dry dream of certain friendship
a muddled puddle of masculinity
the fevered-dancefloor fantasy of a faded-cut punk
the definition in a language of multiple fuzzy definitions
confuse the flustered fuck out of you in a dive bar
break down the barrier between machismo and delicate
get drunk off of sincerity before the liquor drowns me
be Mr.-steal-your-girl or Mr.-hit-on-your-boyfriend
let you realize I have a weak spot between my head and heart
to be watered, like anyone else, with sweat from time to time
validation that I won’t wake up a murdered malignancy
absolution that God is a hybrid text in braille about love
for you to know I still bleed maroon and breathe the same
clarify this. Just because I’m a contradiction doesn’t mean I’m not real
Samuel J Fox is a bisexual poet and essayist living in North Carolina. He is a poetry editor at (b)OINK and poetry editor at Orson's Review. He appears in Grimoire Magazine, The Occulum, and Moonchild Magazine; he is forthcoming in Former Cactus, Dirty Paws Poetry, and Mannequin Haus. Find him on Twitter (@samueljfox).