2 poems | Johannes Punkt

Inner Thighs
sext: I hesitate to use the word beautifully to describe the way you open yourself like a coral-reef in bloom to me, but I’m prismatic too; I fuck you like an oil spill.

Rococo
you keep a lot of butterflies in your cellar and they ,flutter, when i look in another direction, one day i ask you why you keep so many dead things down there, you show me how you feed them,, drops of nectar on the end of a long delicate straw, you drown the thing in it, and it convulses to swallow it all to break free, you laugh and you tell me butterflies ,breathe, differently from us and you mark out on my body where my breathing holes would be if i were one

(…am

,i,

not?,)

——

Once, a person from the same country as Johannes Punkt (Sweden) said that his accent was too difficult and they should just have the conversation in English. Johannes Punkt is both for and against the effacement of native tongues and has too many contradictory thoughts on the topic to say anything coherent.  23 years of age, disabled but not ready to talk about it, queer but afraid he’s not queer enough. On Twitter as @johannespunkt, on Tinyletter: https://tinyletter.com/distantstations

Advertisements
Vagabond City Literary Journal

Founded in 2013, we are a literary journal dedicated to publishing outsider literature. We publish art, poetry, and creative nonfiction from marginalized creators.