Seth Leeper is a queer poet. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Broadkill Review, The Summerset Review, White Wall Review, Coastal Shelf, otoliths, decomp journal, SCAB, and others.
He holds an M.A. in Special Education from Pace University and B.A. in Creative Writing and Fashion Journalism from San Francisco State University. He lives and teaches in Brooklyn, NY.
He tweets @sethwleeper.
***
1.
_____ , _____
don’t you dare
use that comma
against me
kindly remove it
from between
my name
and the
previous article
thank you
so much
***
2.
hard stop
i wish
i could trust
your silences
but i have
less time
to care
than when
i sat by
the phone
waiting for
my heart
to stop
***
3.
orbital valves
these
drooping
bulbs
suspended
from
chicken wire
dangling
from unseen
origins
have eyes wide
and cloudy
like
they hold
the fog
of space
but no
neptune
holds no
surprises
for us
we are
orbiting
the veins
in our
hearts
***
4.
ficus
sounds like
a curse word
the way
schiessen
sounds like
a sneeze
we’ve long since
forgotten
how to say
whale penis
in that other language
but we can all
breathe easier
knowing
that’s one less
dick to deal with
we are haunted
by so many
words with legs
the lengths
of our own lives
perching on
stilts and pedestals
spitting out traps
we trip over
til we find
our way back to
smoky nights
speeding down
dirt roads
doing 90
around turns
signed for 25
daring death
to reach his
bony hand
out of his
tattered
sleeve
because
in youth
we had all
the answers
but death
leaves us with
unanswered
questions
***
5.
slurp
we really
need to agree
it’s time
to reconcile our
disparate relationships
to the void
which is
another way
of saying
fuck you
in place of
electroshock therapy
which is just another
path back
to a monotone
kaleidoscope
spinning ever
downward
to resurrection
like we could
hold it
in our hands
a delicate
cup of fur
perhaps
a bird
perhaps
well
gerbil
like the one
you microwaved
or was that
just a meme
which is
just another
desperate cry
for attention
we really need to
talk about semantics
and how that tan
was not
a good idea
but you laid down
with the beam anyway
emerged crusty
around the edges
which is just another way
of saying get out
because we must be near
each other all the time
but it’s impossible
to take you with me
when i’m being sucked
into the void
