tops

i wondered why she said no
when i asked if i could fuck her,
how i learned about tops,
still sweet san francisco,
broken bus pass,
girl, pass me your broken,
girl, you taught me how to top
while i was bottom dwelling,
girl, try harder,
give me some charcoal,
let me be the fattest cathedral,
the smoking jacket that i sewed into my skin,
the way i counted down the days until
finger bones inside a mountain
because the emphasis is virgin,
burning down the closet,
learning how to fuck you harder,
we only get better,
we start to polish our brass
like swallowed teeth
in the burden of a chewing stomach,
so when i saw you
up inside my neck,
my neck a river of clothes pins
holding my breath on the line,
boy, be a silent carnival,
boy, give me some salt rock,
boy, try harder,
let me sing as heavy as a cracked compass,
let me go down
polished. 

BY NIC ALEA

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Nic Alea is a Bay Area based poet who co-hosts an open mic, The New Shit Show, which focuses on the production of new work. They also help facilitate a creative writing workshop in the Solano Juvenile Detention Center with The Beat Within. Nic has been published in word riot, >kill author, The Evergreen Review and some other cute places. Nic is a 2012 Lambda Literary Fellow and their chapbook (no trees, all pianos) can be purchased at nicaleapoetry.bigcartel.com.