two poems by will stockton

Duane Asks for my Thoughts on Walden


I want to start forest fires –
my dearest darling darling Duane kills
as we leash dogs and walk to the woods
to front only the essential facts of life.

My dearest darling darling Duane kills
on these barbed acres, shot from a tree stand,
to front only the essential facts of life
as dogs pull against leashes leading

on these barbed acres, shot from a tree stand,
a river red and barbed, no swimming,
as dogs pull against leashes leading
to a windowless cabin good for raping.

A river red and barbed, no swimming,
a backyard playground of decoys and darlings
I want to start forest fires –

to front only the essential facts of life.  

--






Fred Phelps Dies in My Arms While Watching Cosmos


Aligned, we are bad at math. I never took calculus, I confess to Fred,
who points to the celestial rings of Saturn. I took College 
Mathematics. My professor said I was bad
at pattern recognition. Fred’s not
listening, still pointing
at asteroids.
Doppler shift.
Fag, tell me
a story. / Noah, an end 
of all flesh. On TV, an animated
Edmond Halley predicts comets. Fred’s not
listening. Repeats, Knowledge conquers fear. / Natural
causes. Windbreaker sleeve reaches for the cup as rain swells gutters.

Will Stockton teaches English at Clemson University. He has written several books and many essays about how people in the Renaissance had sex, and a lot of poetry about how modern people do. With D Gilson, he is the author of Crush (Punctum Books) and Gay Boys Write Straight Porn (Sibling Rivalry Press). His poems have appeared in journals including Assaracus, Bloom, Fourth River, PANK, and Weave. He self-promotes over at www.willinoverplus.virb.com.