Two Poems By Drew Pisarra

Thick fur coated his back: all black, no curl,
a kind of rat poison in follicle
form. For some. Dressed up, milder specs unfurled,
so geek chic, so clueless adorkable.
Yet while I can act the frotteur who gets
satisfaction from humpin’ and pumpin’
tortoise shell rims, tight bowties, pen pocket
protectors, and body hair cardigans,
a fetish is not a connection, more
like a potion you ingest through the holes
in your eyes. I gulped hard; the magic wore
off so I got dressed again then went home,
to avoid any chatter that might suck
the oxygen out of this House of Fuck.


I’ve been the villain of my own story
and not the salty hero I’d like to be.
I’ve caused pain, not as in allegory,
but real pain to real pals regretfully.
One incident still haunts me. Oh, there have
been many! Though most of my wrongdoings
evaporate over time. My motives
in this case were base: Old lust, my undoing;
my mark, the soul mate of my closest friend.
You can probably see where this is going
Betrayal’s the surest path to one end
and the saddest part for me is knowing
that I broke not one bond but two in one night.
I doubt, I’d do that again. But I might.

Drew Pisarra is the author of Infinity Standing Up, a collection of queer love sonnets published by Capturing Fire Press, and Publick Spanking, a book of short stories published by Future Tense Books. He’s also a recent literary grant recipient from Cafe Royal Cultural Foundation.

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