Classic poem of the day
The strongman is an object for hilarity among the yokel kids. His pectorals and gluteus, slabs he flutters at will, are all the sex they've ever seen closeup. Once outside Albany, a hilly cowtown, he found a boy in overalls crying in his trailer after the show. “I lost the bet,” the boy says, “I got to ask you if you're queer.” The strongman takes some iced tea from his cooler, mixes in some gin, pinches the boy's triceps so he goes green with pain. “What I like,” he says, “is quee......
Member poem of the day
I trace each raised scar, peppering self-doubt with kisses. Dismay crinkles in my eyes as shame sets in yours, I notice you can’t meet my gaze so I dip two fingers under your chin till I’m lost in the pain warped blue.
I try to find a way to put you at ease, but how can...
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