Three Poems by Gary Lundy

in the house by the abandoned air force base.

in the house by the abandoned air force base. military 
bearing. the day after richard dies. brain aneurysm. 
misplaced modifier. he knew about us. played his saxophone 
all hunched over. like in the old black and white photographs 
from the thirties and forties.

my lover father gently unfolds me onto the bed. inserts a 
sermon into the fan air surrounding.

to be unable to say i love you. even though i always had. 
how your mothers authority poured cold liquid onto our 

when as with large hands. his fingers trace your want in this 
desire for weeks. chapped face neck aflame. the night my 
older lover father dry humps me in vodka delirium.

bite marks cover neck shoulders pits nipples stomach inside 
thighs. gasp a willing open.

two men kiss publicly. stand on the street.

two men kiss publicly. stand on the street. your soft father 
voice whispers. that’s best kept in private. my eyes linger on 
the figures. then up at you. our hands held tightly. i a mere 

at times the boy talks to hear his own laughter. against the 
odds of ever rediscovering his lost lover father. and yes i do 
want the thrown away shoes. the ones your dying friend left 

i’m sorry i was unable to help more. unavailable to do more 
than nod in agreement. or mouth a sound of tongue on skin.

were you ever to learn how to listen you’d be a formidable 
host. insert design on having to keep safe. a slow fade away 
impossible to stop. try to imagine memory thought. even 
though language prevents.

i need to feel touch once again. pour pain residual 
belonging. come alive. if only a few more moments. say ah 
yes that’s it. all the way in. scratch compliant surface skin 

the other he binds my arms

the other he binds my arms above my head. legs slightly 
spread bound as well. the purity of white cotton rope. mouth 
gagged eyes covered heightened sense of hearing. as well 
as smell and touch. nod yes if this remains all right. up and 

nice meeting you like this. are there others in the room. an 
other. the heat keeps beads of sweat. scrape a first layer of 
skin. dust the wooden floor. no. i agree. it’s never only about 
enough pain degradation. no time for sleep walking.

nod yes that’s a good idea. to begin with. never end a 
declaration with a weakening proposition. i remain always at 
your mercy. intimacy is too difficult. to expose the inside 
dangerous. hurt me. make my skin bleed. mark on this 
makeshift exposure.

pull against the white cotton rope. seminary evaporation 
strain. cut small pieces. glue to alternate universes. nod yes. 
struggle to hear the others voices. feel sharp steel nail pain. 
slice curl.

this new work its own outside reality. nod yes. stripes 
dispersed along the back and legs. brief bright red. then 
maroon. strike deliberate leather straps. make the mind 
forget. carry the body toward a final failure to return.
smell sweat musk hair stomach genitalia. drool drop 
pretense. make thoughts outdated. extinct. breathe short 
choppy struggle. abandon imagination expectation. bleed 
each instant wholly. nod yes. privacy secretes the three. 
nod. yes. it is that difficult. to let one love.

Like what you read? Give Beautiful Losers a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.