Due respect to the Weather
Girls, but raining men
would be the worst possible
forecast. I’m not saying I don’t
eat peaches with aplomb,
I’m just saying I’m sick
of alt-right supermajorities.
In response to my coming out
email, Egg told me everyone’s
a little bit gay. Truth is I’m more
than a little misandrist. I never find what I need
in anyone’s kitchen and forgot my own
flatware on the camping trip
orchestrated by dykes frustrated
I’d never filled out the spreadsheet.
The last man I loved? An almost-Buttigieg
voter! I’m sorry. At least gay sex is better
in practice than on TV: real
mucusy and over the covers.
At least the internet got men to fill out
all these five-inch inseams.
And didn’t me and my GF/DF BFs pile
into the same thrift store dressing
room, shimmying into see-through
sequin tops, a stitched-on honey
bee pollinating her flowers?
And wasn’t I needlessly hard
on my ex, an abortion provider
partial to Maggie Rogers?
And aren’t I love you and I’m sorry
so much the same? You can’t expect
anything in return. Only the rain
Kurt David is a current MFA candidate at The Ohio State University and former Macrorie Fellow at Middlebury’s Bread Loaf School of English. Before moving to Columbus, he taught at a public high school and agitated for social and climate justice as part of his teachers union. Also, he ran a queer book club called Reading Rainbow. His work has appeared, or soon will, in Foglifter, Gulf Coast, Split Lip, and elsewhere.
Art: “Alex at the Pool” by Lesley Goodyear
Acrylic on canvas