POETRY

Category 4

by West Ambrose in Issue Seventeen, September 2024

It’s alright, I wanted to tell her. This vicious nature
that wakes us up inside,
tells us we’re alive,
               forces us to not look away–
     gasps, lunges, howls     black as     ocean’s breath     on the moors

at night.     Him and I will survive
               because we’ll survive together,
          until Eternity has its fill.     We’ll be on that next boat,
          new land,      different name,     kind of trip. We’ll be
          wearing bullet wounds out like     Versace.     We’ll taste iron
          when we fuck.     We’ll leave     and
               when we vanish     we’re never, ever coming
               back.     How fast the shadows change tense
     blending in with
               shadows,
are shadows blending in with
          more shadows —

     in the last pew,
the evening vespa
     is recited in a burned down church
between our sharp teeth and the layover:
Give us this day,
     to recount the dizzy feat of flying under moonlessness
          and try once again

                    to Misbehave.

© 2024 West Ambrose

West Ambrose

West Ambrose is a scrivener and performing artist. Check out his ever queer works at westofcanon.com. If you want anything published in The HLK quarterly or The Crow’s Nest, just ring for the masthead, and let them know.

Poetry by West Ambrose
  • Category 4