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2 poems

by Rax King

Rax King is a dog-loving, hedgehog-mothering, beer-swilling, gay and disabled sumbitch who occasionally writes poetry and works as assistant editor for Sundress Publications. She is the author of the collection The People's Elbow: Thirty Recitatives on Rape and Wrestling (Ursus Americanus, 2018). She's a 2018 Best of the Net nominee whose work has appeared in Barrelhouse, Dream Pop, and FIVE:2:ONE.

Things I can easily imagine Elon Musk doing


  1. Internally critiquing the performances of the other guys in his Improv Over 40 workshop with great viciousness, but then totally choking when it’s his turn to do a scene with Rhonda from Toluca Lake

  2. Researching the relative merits of Rogaine vs. Propecia in an incognito window

  3. Buying a $75 hair straightener from a mall kiosk and then getting it home and scolding himself for buying yet another thing he doesn’t need from a mall kiosk

  4. Bringing a 30-rack of Natty Ice to befriend the undergrads during homecoming weekend at his alma mater every single year

  5. Singing along extra-loud to the “I’m a joker, I’m a toker, I’m a midnight smoker” line in that one goofy Steve Miller Band song

  6. Subtly flexing his arm anytime a woman touches it for any reason

  7. In the course of an hour, without realizing it, opening 17 tabs of Wikipedia articles about women being kidnapped, tortured, or murdered

  8. Saying “earn this dollar” to a stripper while holding it just out of her reach in what he imagines is a flirtatious way

  9. Eating peanut butter out of the jar while sitting on the toilet and reading his 401k statement

  10. Losing a drunken fistfight in the Las Vegas Morimoto

  11. Saying “I’m sorry, I just can’t taste the saffron. I need to be able to taste the saffron” to his server while sending his risotto back to the kitchen and then saying “see, that’s better” when she brings back the same risotto, untouched, and he tastes it

Love song for Dick Wolf


I prefer

that I don’t know


what you look like

because you are,


therefore, beautiful. These

are not their stories,


but mine: did you know

that when men


have given me drugs, it’s because

they’ve needed to force


something into

me? Is this what


you’re tired of,

from women? Forgive


my troubled

everything. Kiss the knuckles


that would’ve gone raw

if I’d dared to punch back.

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