THE GAY BOY ALPHABETIZES HIMSELF IN A SEARCH FOR SOME SEMBLANCE OF ORDER

FAREWELL FACES

The hostess was full
of crickets. Crackling
with unknown air.

Downtown, he elected
to think about fresh
blood. Be careful,

they said, when dealing
with a promise like that.
—
Found poem source:
King, Stephen. It. Scribner Book Company, 1986. P. 540.

WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN

do not blink
or
the world
will float
away

Found poem source:
King, Stephen. It. Scribner Book Company, 1986. P. 601.

YOUR SKIN:

a bowl
|of nothing

Found poem source:
King, Stephen. It. Scribner Book Company, 1986. P. 663.

HANKY CODE

there’s a perfect metaphor
for the way tree branches
rise, but i won’t say it
because you’ve already
heard it.

something dwells, like
the id, beneath the waves
the gulls watch, but i won’t
tell them because they
already see it.

there’s something on my
chest, green as carnation,
not hidden—
just coded,
but i won’t say what it

is, because i’ve already
felt it.

Eric Cline is a gay poet, 2016 Best of the Net nominee, and the founding editor-in-chief of Calamus Journal. His debut chapbook, “his strange boy eve”, was published by Yellow Chair Press in September 2016. He tweets @ericclinepoet.