Lowball arpeggios,
burst condoms
and bent brick,
deep red—loose,
synthesized and
you’re lying—
lose a finger if you
smile or mock
their plight—
aggregated
commodity
no your labor
knots + distend
jock itch and
distant chafe—
allegations of
end rhyme
taken seriously
like ribald graffiti
or sgraffito plates
spinning on an
as-of-yet unknown
axis—isolate,
stickless, iodide,
the inveterate
wool-clad
toughs are preening
as though I don’t—
no—my mister
is looking me in the
eyes I stare at
his chest hair
and tease in green
and amber it’s
the massive dream
of fault lines
and shopping
mall candy
gumballs
+ smiling
+ big dogs
Josh can also be found in Pebbles vol. 3 in this issue.
Joshua Massey is a writer and graduate student living in New York City, where they study American material culture. Someday, they aspire to own two cats and read all the books on their bookshelves. Their poems appear in Defunct Magazine, Alien Magazine, and petrichor. TWITTER INSTA
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