boy to boy to bed by Sam Herschel Wein

boy to boy to the sidewalk, fingers that tingle like grass 
and touch. boy to boy to arms embracing and the streetlights 

all go out at once. boy to boy to hunger, to Yom Kippur, 
to Jewish holiday psalms and songs that say, tonight you atone, 

just be ready to fuck me at daybreak tomorrow. boy to boy 
to fence, pressed, our skin, how it molds and fits between slats, 

between lips, displaying our brand-new love. boy to boy to boy, 
a stranger, walking suddenly by, who spits, who screams, you fa— 

names we used to yell, back when we hated ourselves, we
learned to spot the difference, knew to draw the attention 

away. we’ve been disgusted, disgusting, too. how we chuckled, 
in the moment. like we were waiting for it. boy to boy to hug, to bed, 

to evenings that end abruptly in fear, in where are your keys, 
keys? with a snap of twigs in the wind. with narrowed, nervous eyes. 

Sam Herschel Wein (he/they) is a lollygagging plum of a poet who specializes in perpetual frolicking. They were the recipient of a 2022 Pushcart Prize. They have published 3 chapbooks, most recently “Butt Stuff Flower Bush” from Porkbelly Press, and are the co-founder and editor of Underblong Journal. 

16 December 2024