Crude Alaska

royal eyelet                invert ravine

buried pipeline down your blue inseam

bonded leather          slackened noose

beneath the earmarked tree-line spruce
i’ve given lean-to shade

you crave for a paltry afternoon
fell eaten & full              high bare nascent

insular claim to nothing special

Falling For It

Rumor is this devastates men.

You scruff in your blue jeans

wrangling whoever else is left

tradewise, large legs spread

like a hardboiled park bench:

Subtle thumbnail sketched sex

and illicit texts suggest DTF—

you’re het up and damn curious

how you’ve edged so late it’s early

and none have helped you come

up with that queer name for desire

delivered of shame unto desperation.

David K Wheeler’s debut poetry collection, Contingency Plans, was published by TS Poetry Press. He has written for The Morning News, The Gay & Lesbian Review, Glitterwolf, Blue Fifth Review, Codex Journal, and others. He earned his BA in creative writing from Western Washington University and now lives in Seattle. Selected by Maisha Z. Johnson

Image © Seth Lunde

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