jos charles, safe space

HOME STATE

u may not know this about me

but i grew up a gay baby

in the united states of america

The united states was a then briefly lived

conceptual project performed by pop artist

john baldessari   Children

were a primary form of currency and u

would often see them

on beaches or in strip malls

advertising diet books and drinking espresso

On a typical day in the united states

people would send each other text messages

like what chemicals are in ur body

today   In the united states

u could always say sexualize my crisis

in the right poem   It’s hard

to believe but to this day they still hi five

each other in the united states   Once

when exchanging my brother’s favorite pathology

for a pair of cirque du solieil tickets

i saw a t shirt that said a hole

is a hole is a hole in fort myers, florida

Los Angeles “trans poet, writer and agitator,” as well as “founding editor of THEM—the first trans literary journal in the U.S.,” jos charles’ first book-length poetry collection is safe space (Boise ID: Ahsahta Press, 2016). safe space is a collection of lyrics writing out survival, solitude, “trigger warnings” and the failures of America and being American, amid a series of intimate acts and interactions. As they write in the poem “SEAGULL, TINY”: “There / is hope // of forgiveness, but / my american // corpse has been such / a disappointment // I would live on / feeling safe // and  spilling secrets [.]” Later, to open “POEM FOR SHIA,” they write: “I was always / impressed by / that / motherfucker / dante’s hell // I mean, the / sonofabitch / names names [.]” There is an attentive, fiery and savage wit that flourishes in these poems, one that names their own names and takes no prisoners. This is a pretty fucking smart debut, and one I would certainly recommend.

A POEM SHOULD SHOW NOT TELL

I wanted fixture of eyes

one nutritional fact and the sturgeon

Uncle in the bathroom, eyes

in the window in every time dream

I wanted tastelessness without color

theory   An empty room

to shut a window on the honeyed color

of visage   The sea waits

and a wise woman once said my element

is water   I lie constantly    The woman

is the internet and elements

are impervious to converstion

Remember the man the woman

and the woman’s body discretely

I want so much for our men

I wanted red

I wanted red

I wanted red

I wanted red