Queer as a skeleton

Sean Speers


queer as a skeleton’s
“coming out” party — 
and as unnervingly confused — 
but isn’t that to be
expected from the fleshless
frame of feeling?
All six feet of my being,
and our folie-à-trois-wandering
underwhelmed by the idea
of going home empty-
handed and alone.
triangled glances, broken
by the naivety of your love
for us both, — pure
and selfless as your empty
closet (empty now
that you’ve moved out) — 
go unanswered or stolen
by exactly the wrong
eye. The “I” who “god
B” thrust toward
Legacy battles the one
who seeks the Same
in the words on His lips;
in the I’s of god B
sameness is blasphemy.


Sean Speers is a second-year MFA candidate in Creative Writing at The New School. His poems have appeared in The Dreams Journal and his articles have appeared or are forthcoming in USA Today and Fjords Review. He works for Nature Publishing Group, LIT Magazine, and The Poetry Society of New York. If Sean were a vowel he would be sometimes y.