Hector

Jameson Fitzpatrick

BG-Broadside-Thirty

It’s time again to plaster the digital streets with Broadside Thirty, our showcase of poems in thirty lines or less by poets thirty or younger. This installment features Jameson Fitzpatrick.

Tiny-House

 

HECTOR


at the window

throwing the keys down


in the doorway

in black athletic shorts


legs the same shape

as yours but


thicker with hair

the curls on his neck


still wet from his run

salt on my tongue


and he has been waiting for me

at the window, Hector


throwing me down

on the bed on top of me


pulling his shorts down

past the dark shock of his sex


no gray anywhere

and nothing soft about him


except how much

he looks like you


in your first author photo

twenty-five years ago

 

Jameson Fitzpatrick holds a BA and an MFA from New York University, where he now teaches in the Expository Writing Program. His poems have appeared in The American Reader, The Awl, The Literary Review, and Poetry, among elsewhere; he is also the author of a chapbook, Morrisroe: Erasures (89plus/LUMA Publications), which comprises 24 erasures of a single text by the artist Mark Morrisroe.