By: Michael Chang
“There’s no telling what languishes inside the body”—Robin Coste Lewis
~ ~
Secret society called the Cat’s Paw fellow travellers & tragic queen Akhmatova
I don’t remember when I found God but recall the first time I laid eyes on Harry
It’s impolite to say “blind barber” these days they prefer “blind hairdresser”
Don’t waste your time axing spend your time doing
If you’re not moving you’re falling behind
Last of the English Roses parents reincarnated as children
Raise me to your mouth Batty boi show off your batty shus
they’re Gucci snapped up inna jiffy innit
I love you like a fat kid love cake feed me my favorite lies I mean lines
If only I had iron bands strapped around my heart to keep it from breaking I wish I were
grey cliffs a heart-shaped lake on Pluto no longer a planet illusive like justice
Tell me abt the lonely boat elusive like remembering hedgehogs disguised as chocolates
I tolerate woodpeckers I hate running out of breath I have always loved the gaps
the spaces between things as much as the things I dissolve in you like the fizzy water tablets
popularized in the 80s taste my lactose intolerance you’re unlucky like the Lao
the idiot white cops handed right back to Jeffrey Dahmer Ray Antrobus won the
Geoffrey Dearmer Prize Clare wants to know abt the lizard brain the lizard testified abt
Benghazi for 11 hrs English the language of oppression to be perfectly honest
I’m tired of the violence
Erasure is lazy like you your manuscript is repetitive & dull bloated & forgettable
stale & smug unbelievably dour & boring Holy sweet chili & tea-smoked duck
there are no insights to be found here
Coulda been a frat boy coulda been a nightmare stump of cat
Queerer than Abe[] Guiltier than Cain you ax if T.S. Eliot was the undercover womxn
In the future white supremacy will not need white ppl laughing so hard at Keith S. Wilson’s line
see the corona of your face talk abt unfortunate Azn lady broke up the Beatles
Funny how the British say clerk like “clark” like Kent like Bruce’s boots
I cut my hair to resemble a tomboy I don’t like how my name sounds
coming from his mouth weak & uncertain His lips of sweet clover
gaslighting bastard tongue perfect for praise & compulsory heterosexuality
Lingering over my vowels well-intentioned but missing the mark I am his mark
Barging in on somebody else’s meet cute I’m worried no fearful he’ll say ching chong next
He’ll be tempted to tell me what I already know Transfixed by his sound
consonants hanging precariously mouth a delicate assembly I bathe in his syllables
love his intimate access point ah yes Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are dead
What does it mean to live I don’t believe in coming clean but I think of you often
I can’t hear you come in the water tell me what’s good pull me into black
Suppose a curfew suppose a window suppose a mattress suppose a breeze
suppose scorpions in a bottle suppose butterflies in a mason jar hey you missed a spot
A Lambda Literary fellow, MICHAEL CHANG (they/them) was awarded the Kundiman Scholarship at the Miami Writers Institute. A finalist in contests at the Iowa Review, BOMB, NightBlock, & many others, their poems have been nominated for Best of the Net & the Pushcart Prize. Their manuscript big shot manifesto was selected by Rae Armantrout as a finalist for the Fonograf Editions Open Genre Book Prize, & another was a finalist in the Diode Editions Book Contest.
sidereal magazine 