is printed with iridescent fish, each facing
a different direction. I bought it for you
at the Portland Goodwill our last semester
in college. Spring break we brought it camping.
I pretended I’d eaten sardines before, pretended
I liked them. I don’t remember what you said
when the condom broke. Probably ‘Oh, shit.’
The next day we drove into town. I took a pill
and another pill and it was over. I couldn’t tell
the difference, could have told my friends
but didn’t, just made lots of dead baby jokes
and went to bed in your dorm room.
You’d put painter’s tape on all the edges.
With the pillowcase, it was like living in
the blueprint of an aquarium. I slept there
the night I smoked Sasha’s weed and you
stayed up for hours rubbing my back, telling
fairytales so I wouldn’t totally lose it.
I slept there the night I tried reading you
Haruki Murakami’s Sleep but fell asleep. I slept
there the night after the day I lost
the bet and had to wear a lampshade on my
head and your professor said ‘Nice hat.’ Later I learned
she owns a lamp in the shape of a woman.
I slept there the night you said ‘I think I’m
falling in love with you,’ igniting a great unendurable
belongingness, like a match in a forest fire.
I burned so long so quiet you must have wondered
if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.
I Have a Rendezvous with Death
I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath— It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death On some scarred slope of battered hill, When Spring comes round again this year And the first meadow-flowers appear. God knows ‘twere better to be deep Pillowed in silk and scented down, Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, Where hushed awakenings are dear... But I’ve a rendezvous with Death At midnight in some flaming town, When Spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.
There once was a man named Sydney
Who drank till he ruined a kidney
It shriveled and shrank
But he drank and he drank
He had fun doing it, didn't he?
I have fallen into Captain America Hell. My love for Steve Rogers has grown exponentially. I found my OTP for him too! Bucky.... so cute. I honestly did not think I could love him this much.
This technically isn't a thing two straight guys would do, Tony thinks, but he's too drunk and miserable to care. Plus, he's only about 92% straight anyway. Steve, on the other hand, is probably 150% straight, minimum, so together they add up to almost two and a half straight guys. When you look at it like that, this is practically the least gay thing Tony's ever done.