Syren Song by Keenan Teddy
- 3 days ago
- 1 min read
after Melvin Dixon.
You’re fake. I’m right.
You’re wrong. He’s white.
Dress up. Take pic.
Long train. I quit.
Forced eyes. Connect.
Whispers. Break neck.
Bottoms up. Close tab.
Try train. Pay cab.
Deep breath. Legs up.
Wide pain. Enough.
Recoil. Paint head.
Made mess. Brown red.
Tumble dry. Yikes face.
Apologize. ((Arrhythmia))
Medicate. Inhale.
Rinse-me. Repeat.
No sleep.
Watch shows.
Wait. Watch
clock. Wait.
Eat less. Take PrEP.
Zoloft. Sunshine.
Be proud. No thanks.
Act up. One day.
Girls shade. Laugh loud.
Single boots. All around.
((Arrhythmia)) Long song.
Back aches. Cruise control.
Sisters die. Prayer swarm.
Share post. What more.
So real. Touch skin.
Pray for real. Again.
Just friends. Cuddle some.
Breaks seal. What’s “clean?”
Looking? Into?
Beach House. Idaho.
Shit blood. Fingers twitch.
Life signs. Forget name.
Sirens wail. Bodies toll.
Hear it come. Hear it goes.
KEENAN TEDDY is a writer and researcher from Flint, living in Chicago. His writing has appeared as prose in PAPER Magazine, Hyperallergic, Michigan Quarterly Review. His poetry has appeared in T: the New York Times Style Magazine, Foundry Journal, and the Fifth Wheel Press to name a few. He was named an "Emerging" Queer Poet of Color by the Shade Journal and a Lambda Literary Poetry Spotlight.