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Articles by Randall Mann
Cold War
Find and share the perfect poems. If you can remember the cold war, you’re too old for me. —Grindr profile Because you’re twenty-two, and in your prime, you silently refuse to date, or “date.” When war was cold, I had a lovely time. I messaged you and sent a shot of grime, then shot some more. It must have been too late. Because you’re twenty-two, and in your prime? Perhaps. I’m shifting like a paradigm. And all the new assumptions formulate as if our war were cold.
Pastoral
Skip to main content Find and share the perfect poems. I watched my old life go by like television. Slopes of grass whipping against bright blue skies, Objects some called tools And others, totems. A woodpile, a sheepskin, Garlic curing from the rafters; A river’s loose slaps upon slabs of warm rock. “Secret spot” read the caption disseminated Online. Coy copy. Cool Said the flatlanders Whose ranks I’d effectively joined.
September Elegies
September Elegies - There are those who suffer in plain sight
Florida Again
The narrow clearing down to the river I walk alone, out of breath my body catching on each branch. Small children maneuver around me. Often, I want to return to my old body a body I also hated, but hate less
A Better Life
Find and share the perfect poems. It’s silly to think fourteen years ago I turned thirty. How I made it that far I’ll never know. In this city of hills, if there was a hill I was over it. Then. (In queer years, years are more than.) Soon it will be fifteen since the day I turned thirty. It’s so remote. I didn’t think I’d make it to fourteen years ago. Fear lives in the chest like results. You say my gray, it makes me look extinguished; you make me cringe.
September Elegies
in memory of Seth Walsh, Justin Aaberg, Billy Lucas, and Tyler Clementi There are those who suffer in plain sight, there are those who suffer in private. Nothing but secondhand details: a last shower, a request for a pen, a tall red oak. There are those who suffer in private. The one in Tehachapi, aged 13. A last shower, a request for a pen, a tall red oak: he had had enough torment, so he hanged himself.
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