1 poem
by Aidan Aragon
Aidan Aragon is a poet, student, mediocre trombone player, and occasional baker from Wisconsin. Their work has been featured by Homology Lit, Cosmonauts Avenue, and Alegrarse among others. You can find them on Twitter
This poem was shortlisted for the 2020 Peach Gold in Poetry with guest judge ALOK.
The Moon Ensures the Shine From My Lipgloss Can Distract the Men Who Wish Me Dead
As I walk home, feet rubbed raw ankles heel cracked and dizzy
prancing like a fag past the dark alleys my coat draped over my arm
like my wrist pointed limply towards Hell
from where Persephone and her gaggle of gluttonous lustfallen queers
(because who among us didn’t obsess over the Greek pantheon
who among us never thought about fucking their marble Gods)
reach up to hold my hand and guide me back to safety
licking the pearls of sweat clutched in the hair of my upper lip
past the short cutie with the homophobic neck
red with hate and jealousy I can taste the vegan jello shots
begging my body to lurch forward pulling me away from his calloused hand
I pluck my lipgloss from my pocket and push my skirt down
over the grate Monroe style but with tear-sweat smeared eyeliner and
a foal’s gait the air loud and green filling my nostrils with hunger
I wink at the broad shoulders and baseball cap coming from across the walk
drop out of his elbow’s arc as my ankle gives
mere moments before flashing a crooked drunk smile to his friend
with the big pecs and pencil legs my nail scraping sparks off the concrete
lighting up the baggy end of their basketball shorts and
scorching the tip of my tongue a tarnished silver
leaking flames down my throat making bonfires of my lungs
so that when I blow a kiss to the bad porn stache
with knuckles locked on to my teeth he falls to ash at my feet
perfect to dust away the shine of my forehead as Persephone leads me
stumbling over into the arms of my unmade bed.