MICHAEL CHANG

BETTER WITH THE LIGHTS ON

sweet thing • don’t u know • dreams always start in diners • 君子之交淡如水 • stupid boy says he’s with her, it’s true, but he’s in the room most of the day • he’s working remotely, doesn’t do anything • he swears he just wants a change of scenery • stupid boy i waited for u by the tennis courts but u never showed • u didn’t, wouldn’t, pick up • stupid sheep boy u are not my lamb • ur mediocre, poetically speaking • yr dull blink, somewhere else • yr voice agreeable like thunder • u taste like jerky & tears • ideal model to pose in the altogether • yr arms hairy like dungeness crab • the degree of civilization in a society judged by entering its 7-elevens • i wish u’d said something • i’m a one-hit-wonder but i’ll make u cum twice • moneyshots & dollar-store royalties • rip it up & start again • i’m a heat-seeking missile for mistakes • move fast, break things • u addict of the basic • junkie of the banal • i’m tired of watching u trespassed upon • sick of being engulfed by u • as if love & honor mattered (pretend) • never underestimate the power of a shared look, a shy glance • i like to go on drives, clear my head • he might as well have said he enjoyed salsa dancing, or caring for bonsai, things i know nothing about • i learned to number my moods • each a waypoint • teaching me to unpack his thirst • sensual like peeling an orange • don’t know the emperor of ice cream but i’ll lick yr orange creamsicle • my chinese tongue turned state’s witness • no translation necessary • his fingers fixed to my head, keying the car to my soul • love me fat like brando • sop up my inner filth • an adult trauma to cover a baby trauma • back when we didn’t have a name for it • i knew enough to count it as a blessing • a gentleman’s friendship, insipid as water • u never tell me when u feel small • why is that • u taught me intense disembodiment • the size of onigiri • the salt • swim laps yr lips are blue • there are two wolves • whiteboys & lies • i feed u • i feed u • i feed u • i feed u until it is too much • u trying to one-up the night • all macho irritating but correct murphy’s law • i’m yr idol’s idol • the yo-yo ma of ego-stroking • push u out of my life like a big turd • forgive myself & make up games to pass the time • i have to know the entire life of a story & it must be a single breath • i’ll give u a romance plucked from the headlines • offer a prayer to the small god of hindsight • dream u so treacly • nirvana when i do that thing u like • who needs solace when we have solange • my little heart fast like a rabbit’s • why u gotta be so rude • have u considered homeownership • gravity galaxy • untamed planets • pulling me towards u density of light • 念念不忘 • 江湖 • rivers & lakes • around the whole country • u have an unused prime benefit

道听途说 (RUMORS)

When an Azn editor accepts one of my poems, a fellow poet says: “You guys can be poo poo platter together.” Yea we’ll make you moo goo gai pan. How food fuses consumption & identity. How the act of eating is erotic & violent. How I once promised to swallow John like an eclair, wholly consuming his confection. Lately I’ve been obsessed with being enough for a boy. One specific boy. One boy in particular. One boy whose nakedness I’m curious abt. Phil Dunphy said that success is 1% inspiration, 98% perspiration, & 2% attention to detail.  I wonder what will be enough for this boy. How queerness is a vector & not a destination. 80% of life is showing up. I’m showing up for your body. It is very satisfying to call someone a ******. The way the word swirls in your mouth like a fine whiskey & comes out silky smooth. I mean the word frémde, German for “stranger.” Eating makes me vulnerable. How race is a fishbone in the throat. How I want to be a lost tampon between your scarecrow’s thighs, meeting you when you come through. How you couldn’t masturbate after moving back in with your mom. Untouched Vaseline, high on a shelf somewhere, out of sight & away from inquisitive eyes. Sometimes you show me glimpses of the real you. I want to pierce the veil. Eat you peskily. Pay tribute to your visual culture. A political act. My body is inscribed with the marks of race, & food, & you. Tell me what you eat & I shall tell you what you are. We are all chameleons in our diet, salamanders in our habitat, inasmuch as we live always in the fire of our own smoldering combustion. Last night I dreamt that you’d written me. But of course you hadn’t. I want to smear my smile onto your face. Share the standard Chinese greeting: “吃饭了吗?” “Have you eaten?” How we sense our own fear. Slip out of our half-underground apartment. Drive past the sign. Avert our gaze. Get trashed like the Bush twins. Yea I tend to think that we’ll be together again. You got to burn to shine. A baby puffin is called a puffling. Nutella is pronounced “new-tell-uh,” not “NUT-tella.” I want to nut in the first Canadian that comes to mind. There is no such thing as permission cheese. If I get dragged out of here in cuffs, Bruce, what do you think my last act would be?

THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES

my first time at this restaurant so i’m excited to see
the junior united states senator from tennessee
what access is she selling now?
in the american imagination, “varsity” is a word that holds immense power
the glass is full but i keep pouring
hang on, my moules frites are getting cold

pink says it hurts 2b human but she is mistaken
most days i don’t feel human
you get mad i named your cat pussy galore
insist on calling it copernicus (why????)
i’m the pin & you’re the grenade, who holds the power
you hold the power but i’ll set you off wunderkinder
baby you know when to lay back & let things simmer
i miss your greasy licks
your cock had a brush w/ greatness

the thing that annoys me abt overtly political poems is that they’re generally bad
beat you over head wit stick
cf. mc poems that are subtle
i’m like bob hicok except i make sense, hicok but elevated
haha jk he is blurbing my book
suddenly remembering a friend’s golden sky
stupid name for a dog
remember the time we saw a womxn break her heel
we were laughing so hard i’m sure she heard us from blocks away
here’s a tip: look around! if you can’t figure out who the chump is, izzu

monsters aren’t born
monsters are created
i never thought i’d have a hand in one
his name is julian like the royal lemur
i’m terrified cherry pie & GSW to the chest
erasure poems can be quite dastardly, you see
are you afraid of their cunning now?

andrew garfield is in sacrifice heaven w/ the naked owl lady
skunk odor bad, bathtub chick laughing, tomato red, cheeks clapping
he meets the percarburet king, blows out his back
he hates black boys no mo’

INTERMITTENT MIDNIGHT

   Nightmare me a future

All my life I have wished

to be somebody else

I’ve done it twice now

*

Mercy me a respite

Undo me a cacophony

Fashion me a modesty

Valentino Garavani

SEX DEATH & PENETRATION

My phone autocorrects “thank” to “fuck” 
This proves to be an issue ::

when I fuck Jesus
when I fuck the first responders
when I fuck my professor for postponing the final
when I fuck the cast of Hidden Figures
when I fuck Ms Scarlet in the library with the candlestick
when I fuck my therapist for relaxation
when I fuck the neighbors for the gift basket
when I fuck the Governor for my ballot
when I fuck the Democrats for turning out
when I fuck the greeter at the door
when I fuck the man who lets me cut
when I fuck them with kindness
when I fuck them for posterity 

But I don’t
mind ::

when I fuck
Zac Efron for
existing

I’ll thank him bareback

A Lambda Literary fellow, MICHAEL CHANG (they/them) was awarded the Kundiman Scholarship at the Miami Writers Institute in addition to fellowships from Lighthouse Writers Workshop, Brooklyn Poets, & the Martha's Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing. Their writing has been published or is forthcoming in the Cincinnati Review, Summerset Review, Vassar Review, Minnesota Review, Santa Clara Review, Ninth Letter, Hobart, Harpur Palate, Poet Lore, The Nervous Breakdown, & many others. Their collection <golden fleece> was a finalist for the Iowa Review Award in Poetry.