Peter Covino

Ten Poems


Bad Trick

No laws of attraction mandated
By the Supreme Being apply here—
In this tawdry porn-filled leather bar
On the abandoned outskirts of town.

Thursdays the Lick-It Lounge doubles
As queer karaoke but if that tragic
No-butt dude with the over-Botoxed face
Thinks I’m in his league then

Let the evisceration begin, feed
The entrails to the culture vultures,
Pray the rosary beads off their strands.
And how did my own butt sag so soon,

Even in my best butt-cheeky Lucky jeans
And this well-beyond B-list attitude?
Who trolls the bars anymore anyway,
Since the damned Internet?  No smoke,

Overpriced drinks, and we all look better
Closer to closing time, jacked on a second
Vodka martini (extra olives please),
Especially after months of expired latex.

But whoa, Mr. vacated-ass can sing,
Fashion casualties aside, and now
Some favorites: “Who’s That Girl”
and “Toxic” back to back—“work it”—

I find myself hooting.  He winks,
Then follows me into the can,
For a little retro-ridiculousness—
Though thankfully those days are over.

He invites me to the Renaissance instead—
A luxury hotel....  I give the friend I came
With the it’s-all-wrong-but-I’m-going-anyway-
Sign.  We’re off miles from my apartment—

Let’s hope he doesn’t have parasites.
Though he promptly warns he’s republican,
Fickle, and now offers to drive me home.
Now?  I’d rather jump into the river stink,

Join the floating debris thirty feet
Below, though I’d probably live
And have to walk home wet, and die
Slowly, of pneumonia.  If money’s

Attracted to me He better show up
Soon!  Where’s that lanky, love-toy
Lacrosse player I was promised?
I’m next in line at the deli counter.

That’s my claim check.  And why
Is it that reduced-price day-old
Bread always seems to be in the same
Aisle as the kitty litter?  At the Rt. 95

Overpass I’m convinced it would be
Too messy, too much effort to climb
The fifteen-foot safety fence.  I’m through
With disfigurement, and body parts.

My mind runs to stabbings, robberies.
None of us is getting younger.  But please
Give back my license and ID.  I can’t
Wait on a motor vehicle line again.



from The Mormon Boy Poems:



So I sd To Mikebigred1

Who’s trying to get a temple recommend

There’s been a Fatal Error

Of the Exploding Porn Star Email

“Gilding my lily”

A perfectly good idiom

When it meant

Taking a Piss!

I suppose we should go to the gym first

Instead of eating Chinese food

Which is a way of making love

Since we can’t



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


IF DANTE BELIEVED IN HELL THEN



Twenty-four days of record

Cold in Utah &

The inversion

Is surely that place

Jan. cold @ the

Professor’s house...

A foot of old snow

& that sick feeling

Again rudderless

At the car park

’til three in the morning

“You who taught me

How man makes

Himself eternal”

Encourages pity

For the sodomites

Writhing in the hot sands

In the fiery storm of rain



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


TRAVIS, TYLER, DUSTIN, DIRK



Jared, Dean, Dirkland, Braden

Brendan, Beau

Hank, (3) Marks

All from 24 Hour Fitness

Lance, Chris, Jesse

Juicy Booty

Jake

& Jeremy, A.k.a. Antonio

(Like I’m supposed to believe that)



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


EVERYTHING’S FINE & NOTHING’S GOOD



In that 31-year-old-Utah-tortured sort of way

Uncoupled, aberrant

Those folks

Who attend

The reject ward:

Friday night

& we can’t go to Chuck-a-Rama

Because it’s date night



& he’s a 40 year-old

Talking about how well

He’s getting

Along

With his

Cat



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


LET ME CALL MARY GIAIMO



I’m getting too close

To the information

Rimbaud: “I have known all the sons of respectable families.”

My deer

Have horns

Not antlers

Cavafy: “My resolution to restrain myself to change, lasted for two weeks
                   at the very most.”



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


ON THE STATIONERY/STATIONARY BIKE



“I also suffer from same sex attraction,”

Says the buff blond

I’ve been staring at



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   



RINGING



I never worry about forgetting

Things

I just

Remember

Other things



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


PASSING



Old moon
In the new moon’s

Arms       afterward
Your scent

In the seminar room
Corduroy & plaid

Each time
For a long time

Such      cautionary
Togetherness

Had been enough
As if your Naval officer

Past
No longer existed

The bombing of that ship
You shirtless A pronouncement



~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~    ~   


CHRISTMAS NIGHT AT THE CORNER DONUT SHOP



I just walked in & already I smell the grease
On my clothes later when I’ll be writing this.

I told him I loved him today, we should move
In; I’ve known him three weeks.  Already

I feel the ache of my lower back from all
The times he’ll disappointment me.




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