Here is the full text of the love poem I wrote to Jean Genet, for Poetry Crush’s Halloween Special, 12 Dead Poets (I Would Fuck):


Jean my love
for you is prison rape
is the vine of moon flowers strangling
the sign post outside the prison
where ex-cons wait with bowed heads
for the bus to return them to the world

Jean my love
for you is a tube of vaseline
tucked tightly in the pocket of my jeans
the cops find when they pick me up
is the hot shame I feel as I grow hard
handcuffed to the cold pipe
waiting to be booked

Jean my love
for you is a porcelain tomb
at the center of a black continent
is rose water is roses is thorns
tearing the tender palms
of my outstretched hands

Jean my love
my fire burning blackly beneath
every breath I exhale upon your neck
I bind my steps with ropes of honeysuckle
and tread sweetly on your naked chest

Jean my fire
my exquisite wound
my stone of blood in a lake of nails
I run my tongue along each vein
and quake and quake and quake
and quake

Jean my quaking wound
my alabaster chainsaw cleaving
the ocean from me

Jean my ocean
my night
I am blacking out

Jean my Genet
my Jean my Jean
I am forever pinned
at the limit of your eyes

Jean my forever
Jean forever