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declan morrow Jun 15
i wanna take the subway
i wanna take the train
to the end
of the

i wanna think
in anonymity

of how i see you
in the face of each
passing stranger
of how your breath sweeps over me
in the draft from
the black tunnel

i beg the calm silence of
time passing
to align my hopes
i hope the city can set me free
i hope it reminds me that although i am lost
i am unafraid
Sam Manfre Jun 14
(TW: ****** ABUSE, *** TRAFFICKING)                                                                                                        

One is enslaved and bound behind your favorite place near Prospect Park,
the johns have lined up eagerly
as midday becomes midnight dark.

The apex predator had stalked the bumblebee,
ripped up the stalks of flowers it pranced around.
Never to fly under the sun again,
thrown into a gutted quarry.

The apex predator now corners the bumblebee
into a bed of thorn bushes.
The johns all take their turn
as the bee turns away,
thinking how it can’t recall the beauty of scattered trees.

It regards innocence as a simple breeze,
from not too long and too long ago.
One that could just lift up wings,
but may leave as soon as it blew.

But now its wings have been clipped,
as the johns head home to get some dinner.
And while the bumblebee’s mind has too headed home;
to honeycombed paradise under the bulb of the sun,
it’s body lays broken and used under the roof of the apex predator.
a piece about the Horrific reality of human trafficking. Ladies, men, nonbinary angels... please be cautious. This is a horror happening everyday right in the places we feel safest and in foreign places that do not have equal political power due to race, ****** orientation, class, ect. DONATE TO ANTI SLAVERY EFFORTS TODAY!
Summer sun on blue
Pungent roses fill the air
Honeybees approve
Laying in the park and marveling at the gloriousness of the first Summer days.
Hopeful bees take flight
A light breeze moves their target
Summer days begin
I’ve cried a lot over you
It was a nasty break up

When I left I said
We’re through
I’m never coming back

It’s been 18 years now
And I’ve seen and heard things about you
In the meantime

And I have to say
With no ill intent
That you have really let yourself go
I wasn’t prepared for this in coming back
It’s ironic because it’s why I left you

When I washed my hands of you
I consoled myself
With thinking
In fact
That you were a *****
Who gave it up too easily
Or a monster like Frankenstein’s
Electrified on a table
Not quite dead
But not quite alive

A friend once said that you were
Always nicely coiffed
But walked about
With a long trail
of **** smeared toilet paper stuck
to the bottom of your superb shoe
Scraping under and behind
And unbeknownst to you

I’ve walked and walked
With a book
So as not to look
And I’ve sat waiting
For you to appear

I’ve sniffed the air
For you
On this street and on that
Stalking you really
But you were gone.
I sat in that park for a long time

Washington Square
With my little book
One short story or two I closed the book
I left
There’s nothing here.
You’re gone.

The first time you made me stop
in my tracks completely
I was bewildered on First Avenue
heading south
It was long ago
Now I realize that it
a premonition
I was suddenly lost
I stared at the sign that read
K-I-E-V in neon to my left
I told myself
“You know where you are”
“You know exactly where are you are”
And in any event, keep heading south
“You know where you are.”

Upon my return
all these years later
it happened again on Canal
I stared hard at elderly Chinese couples
Hoping for eye contact
which I never got
Looking for an answer
An explanation
Their strategy for survival
Is this Co-Existence or a Time Loop gone WRONG?
How many of us are actually ghosts?
An old boyfriend told me once that they don’t like you.
And neither do the Poles.

“Is this the real life?”

I forgot until quite recently that
Not so long
in Astor Place
I thought about you again
I thought that you must have moved over one block
But that’s just not possible.
It really is you.
This is you.

So casting you to the side
as I have done
As I had done
Will it help me at all?
Has it helped me at all!

Now I wonder if you are
a captive monster
rendered impotent
by steel and concrete?
Or a jammed low frequency
that dulls the mind
which Science won’t render mute?
Was it a healing potion
The perfect ratio
**** and **** and rage
That was
The Most Holy of Trinities?
Spurned and now this

If we made it again
A perfect batch
Could it re-start your heart and keep it
Like the Doctor in the stormy moonlight?

Do the tides help at all?
I don’t miss you if that’s what you’re thinking.
Desire Mar 18


Dominion City NYC
Emily Feb 27
I want to go to Paris,
but I shouldn’t be so careless.
I think I’ll go to New York City,
But I’ll look like such a pity.
What about Chicago?
I’ll go to wherever the wind will blow.
Or maybe I’ll just stay home.
But then again, I do love Rome.
This is a little fun poem I wrote with my friend.
Desire Feb 26
"A, B, C, D, 1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6, 7, E, F, M
G, L, N, Q, AND R
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