#sjohnna mccray

[petrichor-moss-and-lightning]

Brandi Carlile, “Raise Hell” // Ashe Vernon, “Buried” // Nikolay Punin // Sally Wen Mao, “Drop Kick Aria” // Venetta Octavia, “Sekhmet, Not Pin-Up Girl”

[wintryblight]

do you have any poems about queer desire?

hi anon! thank you so much for sending in this request since this is one of my favourite subjects in poetry. as a result i have a few more than i usually include in a compilation, so please enjoy!

Ocean Vuong, “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous” | For hunger is to give / the body what it knows / it cannot keep.

Joseph O. Legaspi, “Vows (for a gay wedding)” | I vow to love you in primal ways. / I vow to love you in infinite forms.

Richard Siken, “Little Beast” | He had green eyes, / so I wanted to sleep with him

Meg Day, “10 AM is When You Come to Me” | It’s Sunday—or so you say with both hands / on my chest—& hot breath is the only hymn / whose refrain we can recall.

Danez Smith, “The 17-Year-Old & the Gay Bar” | i want to live on his tongue, build a home of gospel & gayety / i want to raise a city behind his teeth for all boys of choirs & closets to refuge in.

Sjohnna McCray, “I Do” | two-thirds of me is certain: / este infierno vale la pena / This hell is worth the risk.

Timothy Liu, “Winter” | How long will the bed that we made together / hold us there? Your stubbled cheeks grazed my skin / from evening to dawn

June Jordan, “Poem for My Love” | How do we come to be here next to each other / in the night / Where are the stars that show us to our love / inevitable

Sappho, “One Girl” | Like the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough

[tenderblues]

We stop on the outskirts of town and think about being reborn. When he places his mouth near my mouth because he’s so obviously thirsty, when he moves to the well where my tongue spouts out because we’re mostly made of water two-thirds of me is certain: este infierno vale la pena.         This hell is worth the risk.

Sjohnna McCray, “I Do”

[sashayed]

Death Is A One-Night Stand

A poor boy promised me a textbook view           of the stars.  No snaking city lights                       from a crown of downtown buildings,

Medusa-like in their paralyzing beauty.           He drives the dark highway                       and I hold him to his word, he turns    

onto a roughly paved hillside.           Stiff black trunks and treetops wave                       goodbye from the roadside.  Visions of policemen

in orange reflective vests           pulled by search dogs for a scent,                       a scrap of cloth, follows me into the field.

He places a hand on the dip of my back           to guide me, like Hades, into his world.

Sjohnna McCray, 2015

[crookedreads]

Spending this icky day with some pretty poetry. ❄️

[chenchenwrites]

got michael schmeltzer's beautiful review from international examiner framed. also i gotta read sjohnna mccray!

[poemcatalog-blog]

She is a woman who ties scarves quickly as an afterthought.

Sjohnna McCray

[blackskintrillmask]

You match the constellations each to a different longing.

Sjohnna McCray, "Father & Son by Window"