Fabio, the Fuckboy explains Floating
Definition: a form of outercourse practiced by devout Mormons in a failed attempt to keep the law of
chastity. See also Provo Push and Provo Soak.
Like most men, I learned to float to prevent
from drowning, from dipping too deep
& coughing out something brackish from far
inside my gut, limbs flailing, possessed
by a will fronting like its stronger than death.
Like most men, I cannot walk on water,
but watch me bellyflop, ripple a ribcage
of sweat. Like most men, I struggle. I sink
to where it is near impossible to keep
from rocking the little boat we call our bones
against the rise & rest of your chest,
the pull & tide of your thighs. I breathe
& each wet breath makes it harder
to breathe. If you cannot swim, you do
whatever you can to keep yourself
from being submerged underwater, where
no prayer is heard, where no one touches you
without bearing the weight of your throes,
where every kick you thrust only brings
you closer to succumbing to the numbing
darkness. If you could not swim—
if you could not swim & you were thrown
against a body
of water, would you not press me beneath
you until your head breaks the surface,
until we were both gasping for breath?
Fabio, the Fuckboy explains Soaking
Definition: a form of intercourse practiced by devout Mormons in a failed attempt to keep the law of chastity. See also Provo Push and Floating.
with apologies to Vincenz Priessnitz, an early developer of hydrotherapy
In Gräfenberg, a roebuck bathes a wolf-bitten limb
in pond water as a peasant boy watches from afar,
his finger a pulsating bruise, swelling in a limp fist.
Alongside the boy, let us marvel at the God-given
wisdom of even the most lowly creatures, the instinct
to baptize a wound & heal, the bones’ slow work
of ossifying, erecting the rigid infrastructure of the body.
Alongside the boy, let us partake in the miracle of blood,
the cellular swarm to warm & mend the broken, to flood,
to clot, to swell the flesh crimson & blue, hues hot
& sensitive to touch. Wrap our ache in your wet
gauze. Let us soak until we no longer have words
for this pang. All day we have stood outside watching
tree trunks buckle & crack across the valley. Beneath
an August sun. Between lavender & honeysuckle.
We are no stronger nor wiser than ancient pines
surrendering to the mountainside. We are both
thorn-bitten & bristle-stung, pining for relief,
for a meadow somewhere deep in your Gräfenberg,
a shady spot with a lonely pond where wolves dip
their noses & lap before licking their wounds in the dark.
Tongue Fucking TS Eliot
Dayaam, the way these suits-n-ties jock-
strap you, cupping your words
like whitey-tighties, you must pop that
all pop-tart, fuck they soul almighty
like ether on a table. Betcha you learnd
to move your lips from statuary,
lips puckered kinda kama sutra, popped
your cherry cherry-picking from
Vedas, your face wrinkly and darth as
Vader. You empire, you kingdom,
you hollow man in my bed, book spread-
eagle, eager over my drooling face.
Your words sound so much better caressed
by my lips, if only they came harder.
you are an old white man with cracked lips
read by me—a brown boy waiting for rain,
a book whose spine so stiff it moaned
ached when split open,
thin as hair or legs open,
the wiry pluck of my voice, cracking
your fleshy ass, inhaling and exhaling,
hole murmuring the stories of the lost,
the secrets of those who know the pinch
who know the taste of scuffed throat,
of a gagged mouth who know the exact spot
who slid a tongue where you like it.
Willy Palomo is the son of two undocumented immigrants from El Salvador. He learned poetry from the worlds of hip-hop and slam. In 2016, he was named the runner-up Latin@ Scholar at the Frost Place Conference on Poetry. He is currently working on his MFA in poetry and MA in Latin American and Caribbean Studies at Indiana University. He runs the Bloomington Poetry Slam and writes books reviews for Muzzle Magazine. His work is published or is forthcoming in Vinyl, Waxwing, The Wandering Song: Central American Writing in the United States, and more.
Top Image: from “Plain home talk about the human system–the habits of men and women–the cause and prevention of disease–our sexual relations and social natures” (1896) / Archive Book Images / flickr.com