Tuesday, April 15, 2014

a poem by d. gilson

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Dating App

In God we trust, all others send data.
No fatties, no femmes. Dick pics?

Can you host? Can you bottom?
Can you get into roleplay? Sodom

& Gomorra? Teacher & Student?
Doctor? Patience, it could be fun.

Networking. Looking for friends.
Here's a selfie in my Mercedes-Benz.

President: John Wayne Gacy Fan
Club. Seeking Granddaddy: Fixodent,

Bengay, 401(k)s turn me on.
Allergic to cats. Allergic to latex.

Undetectable. Discrete. Tie me up
and tickle my feet. Where do you want

me to cum? The sum of two parts
is greater than the whole. Are you my soul

mate? Is your hole clean? Great.
Be there in ten. Your looking for a hookup?

Gross. You're looking for an apostrophe.
The heart, a muscle, begins to atrophy.

Let's makeout. Let's get takeout and cuddle.
Piss on the floor. Now lick the puddle.

D. Gilson is the author of Crush (Punctum Books, 2014), with Will Stockton; Brit Lit (Sibling Rivalry, 2013); and Catch & Release (2012), winner of the Robin Becker Prize from Seven Kitchens Press. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poetry, The Indiana Review, and The Rumpus. Find D. at dgilson.com.

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