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Mitchell King

By September 18th, 2020 No Comments

Gays in Space

skin blooms into such colors. consider all the space between two bodies that are similar and so far away how a street corner can be as far as a year. sometimes i drift into the traffic as i am pulled by the gravity of my infinite sisters and a mad-heat-seeking desire to kiss them with these clumsy plans. the death count for queer americans is climbing like a fever that won’t break. the earth curves beneath us as our density increases and increases like two stars collapsing into each other like a hug—is this love?

dying in a final flash. boom: cosmic. boom: glitter. boom: and space is the color of a bruise.

 

 

Strawberry Cowboy as Missing Person

I roll into town in a pink Cadillac.
The boys blush into my favorite colors.

My wig has snakes and roses. My spittoon is full of gold.
In the town square are paper faces. I see a gun
and flinch.

 

 

 

 

Mitchell King is a runaway witch living in Kansas City.