by Chip Livingston

Chip Livingston is the author of MUSEUM OF FALSE STARTS (Gival Press, 2010) and the chapbook ALARUM: (Other Rooms Press, 2007). New work is forthcoming in the journals New York Quarterly, Florida Review, Yellow Medicine Review, and Solstice, and the anthologies SOVEREIGN EROTICS, THE PEOPLE WHO STAYED, SING: Poetry of the Indigenous Americas, and DIAS DE LOS MUERTOS. Visit him at


They were delivery men weathered to the sexual narrow of everything,
sitting dreadlocks and bounced brown skin, window thighs and the shower
reward, kneeled to stand like poured honey

Then one afternoon between rolled down and opened, the thick hand
of his stayed fingers and the let believe stone still crouched over,
an ocean of Don’t go now

 And out of the yarn colossus, the nudged balance knocked sorry,
a dangerous catching 

The long thought thought greedy:  His dungarees.