David Spicer

after Terrance Hayes

i s o l a t e

me in that lonely space of your empty Kansas silo
but make sure I have my hopsack journal and oils

Make sure all the cops and thugs think I’m lost
Don’t forget to cover the floor with my favorite tiles

Seal me in this forgotten tower before it’s too late
Spruce up the walls the ceiling and paint them teal

a color and texture that’ll remind me of Taos
I won’t lie to you I’ll womanize cheat rob steal

Let me kill some time painting my toes
on these canvases kill some time in the night I’ll toil
I’ll paint you nude you’ve got nothing to lose

m a n i c u r e

after spending all day shoveling chicken manure
I thought I deserved a treat-trip to the cinema
missing you I chose a mob-noir film called Iceman
but the theater reeked of cheap popcorn and urine
I hadn’t read my allotment of Rumi
decided to succumb to my manic
impulses and rushed outside to meet an angry rain
shower my body resembled a chipped Ionic ruin
my drenched hands small sacks of puffed rice
you stood smiled under a viaduct clutching your cane
your varnished nails glittering in the mire

t r e e h o u s e

on your tip toes
you nailed up a poster by Erté

we took turns being host
you brought a black rose
we hid under a stolen satin sheet
in that high house to laugh not shout

you and I called each other Seer
we shared our first kisses there
spent hours playing the stereo
wondering about that word eros
knowing we were the other’s hero

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