A poem

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

A new letter of the alphabet
bouncing between eye-contact,
the walls closing in like hands
pressed together in prayer.

I’ve ordered a pizza just to get
some kind of surprise human
contact. A strange mirror made
of wind, gps signals, and a web
hovering in the way of a keyhole.

I think of the goofy cross-eyed
smile I could have given to the child
in a shopping cart at the self
checkout aisle hours earlier.
I didn’t and then life hurt like
every regretful infliction of the self.

Dear stranger, I could write you a poem or I could just…


A poem

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Photo by Matthias Oberholzer on Unsplash

i watch her
slapping his dick
against her tongue
through the camera
and notice a drop
of errant spittle
distorting pixels
on the lens like
rainbows in
gasoline

i watch myself
reach in front
of the shot and
wipe it away
with a finger
as she sucks
and he moans
away

i wonder what
thoughts will
race through
her lovely head
when she sees
my giant finger
block the view
of his giant cock
upon playback

i wonder what will race through mine when I put the camera down and see them both laying there soft and spent together with…


A poem

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Photo Credit

Woman,

you are related to nothing else
and compared to nothing itself.
It’s an apex atop which the existence
of my need for everything you
cannot be diminished, diluted,
or distrusted as an illusion.

You undo all of my conditions.
You unweave all of my webs.
You cut tears in the lampshades
subtly lighting the flesh you have
so intentionally bared to the light
with your sly, reckless vulnerability.

There’s all of these sensations that you use to stave off my adherence to a twitching, glitching, frustratingly pulsating body I call my own, as if your shadow is a pool…


A poem

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Photo Credit

We beg you —
squeeze us
tighter, god.

Give us
a single tingle
past the limit,
our very atoms
erupting into
a bigger bang.

Make
every nerve
a frame, door,
portal for our
writhing peace
to collapse
within.

It’s just that
your supernovas cool,
your biggest bangs
debate their size,
and your blackest
holes just suck.

We want to feel
the realest nothings
fissure and fizzle
into the most
absurd, naughtiest
somethings.

Make us
feel the void
we suspend
between the two
and we’ll die
trying to make
yours worth
believing, ever
lasting.

Coil around these bodies until we burst…


A poem

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Photo by The New York Public Library on Unsplash

death behind glass
and life within it
or is it the other
way around

there is
this tendency to
think about what
would happen if
I were to press this
little button here
and let my helmet
open like a bud
to the sun

I think of
buzz lightyear
gasping for air
in a toy story

my eyes
could have been
s u c k e d f r o m
t h e i r s o c k e t s
c o w b o y

I think of
buzz aldrin
claiming monoliths
in a c-span clip

Aaron Quist

Poet. Reach out: aaronsweetjane@gmail.com

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