Too Many

Poems about
that night
letting Colin
do whatever
he wanted
so long as
he wanted
to do me

How many
poems about
the moon
are gay?
How many
poems about
the stars
are gay?

My life is
so loud
that even
google knows
who I fuck,
how I touch
myself or let
my pleasure

rot. I am
afraid of men
like everyone
is afraid
of wasps
even after
they are stung.
Every wasp

is still a wasp
even flying
away off
to fuck
another boy
in the back
of a Rav-4
in late May.

Date me
I say
to the sky
with a toy
in my ass
DATE ME
I scream
at the gay moon

Wheeler Light lives in Charlottesville, VA, and is an MFA candidate at the University of Virginia. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in the Penn Review, December Magazine, and Hobart, among others. He is currently a poetry reader for Pretty Owl Poetry. You can find his work at www.wheelerlight.net.