by Matteo L. Cerilli
after Terrance Hayes’ “All The Way Live”
Me and Caeneus have that light at our core, set a-scorch by a baby bottle
pink with neon shine, imposed by ichor, a thing we drink
through needles slipped hilted into impenetrable thighs.
The drug store’s brighter than hangover.
Zeus says some jocks are bulking off the name-brand—We’re not
generic. Get it up anyway and tell him to fuck himself.
We’re louder than a god’s bad day, heads locked like bricks through mirrors.
Seek someone’s sanctuary and make tracks there instead.
Tap the mic and test how low low low this voice can slow,
Apollo can you hear me? Apologize to your mother.
Cut your hair in the bathroom and slit
an eyebrow ringent. Call it vanity
that our pants don’t fit. “It’s too expensive,” Caeneus says, and uses socks.
Everyone’s at war with us. Drink it dry
then. Take two and set me on fire in the morning.
Elysium will wait.
MATTEO L. CERILLI (he/him) is a speculative writer first and many many things second. When he’s not writing, he’s working with his campus queer. service center, attempting to become a parkour master, or memorizing useless facts. His debut novel, Lockjaw, will be published in summer 2024 by Tundra Books.
Bathroom Chatter can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 5.2.
