a dog followed me home last night
and stabbed me to death
so dad says I have a curfew now.
Found shards of clavicle and
hypodermic needles
in my Halloween candy
He’s worried the cherry flavor
will make me a fag.
Smeared lamb’s blood
above the McDonalds entrance
so God couldn’t eat brother
We pray over McDoubles
while under the table
a man on Omegle
tells me how loose
Satan’s asshole is:
trust me, he would know.
I’m not allowed to have friends
but I named the flesh pit
in my closet “Rob”
He shows me how to kiss boys
so I’ll be good for
the man on the internet
who tells me I’m mature.
I learned fractions from
an account with a profile pic
of Hitler petting Twilight Sparkle,
dad says I’m old enough to
shoot guns now
He showed me in case I ever
need to kill someone
who thinks grammar is real.
a man followed me home last night
and put a love letter in my driveway
Baked cupcakes for my birthday
Showed me the right way to shave
and dad says
I owe him thanks.
Jack Gotter is an aspiring author and poet from Portland, Oregon living in Ashland, Oregon for university. He studies creative writing and hopes to use his work to inspire more people to be gay. Jack occupies a brain with eleven other headmates and would like to acknowledge that most of his work is inspired by the audacious things they say.
Main Squeeze Literary Journal 