Turner Canty
Final Fantasy Boyfriend
Fleet week has come and gone
and still I find myself sucking down the same old cigarettes
duped by another damsel in distress
going for that twinkie tennis look
not really haunted by my mistakes
so much as forced to process them over and over
with daily reminders set by social media
you can leave this place, but it won’t necessarily leave you.
Lover, you should’ve come over
there are moments I feel powerless to express my true opinions
rather, I leave them like grass clippings for the next person to find
little shits on the lawn
obscured from view
wanting to have my cake and eat it too.
There are places I would take you if you’d let me
beneath the fountains of youth
hold my hand when we cross the street
wanton disregard for safety in the city that never sleeps
live long and sponsor my failing music career
death bed denouncement of the one you thought was daddy
so much disrespect it’s a wonder they still keep your name on the leaderboard
back when going to school meant getting a J-O-B.
The Physical World
Everyone is drunk in the physical world
driving home after a 12-hour shift of being alive
the crushing blow of the nightly traffic
and the lingering sound of crickets teasing the darkness
leaves stepdad lost in a whirl of dandruff
shipwrecked on I-90 for several earth years
pulled over for a dim fog lamp by some conniving Prospero
asking about the time of day on Jupiter
too tired to navigate this chunky millennium
he wakes up in county jail
with the faint taste of fenugreek at the back of his throat.
We did it until there was nothing left to do it to
spraying solvents all over the on-suite in the guest bedroom
white painted brick interior gives it a kind of civil war vibe
I found twelve copies of your book in the couch cushions
seemed like they were holding the whole thing together.
Your dick looks like a little éclair and it tastes like one too
we eat recent sandwiches waiting for the clock to strike
while red wing blackbirds pick morsels from our teeth
reality bites in the forgotten physical world
where no amount of paranoia is sufficient
in the space between midwestern politeness and urban apartheid
parents who only talk to their children in moral platitudes
usually have vodka hidden somewhere on the premises.
This is my version of the divorce
trying to find all the bodies that are buried in the backyard
making amends with the gyro shop owner after all these years
adrift like the wacky waving inflatable tube man
flinging itself back and forth with no knowledge of its corporeal existence
amidst the other demon byproducts lining this stretch of highway
we ponder these phenomena on nights out with drink in hand
singing songs into one spit coated but durable mic
making love in the physical world
waiting for a chance to step outside into the cool air and have half a cigarette
and talk of the things that might help us get through the morning
slippery memories, trickles of dread for the coming workday
staying for one more round before calling it
so I might have something to think about on the train tomorrow.
Turner Capehart Canty is a poet living in Queens NY. His most recent chapbook, I Want to Miss Them, was published by Eyelet Press in 2019. Turner is currently completing a Master’s of Public Health from the CUNY School of Public Health, and is working on creating a series of poetry mixtapes and diagrams.