Forthcoming from Action, Spectacle Press.
HOPE THAT’S TRUE
the butterfly dog owner refused to leave manhattan
where it resides like hope
or a splinter of soap
too old for poetry readings
w/ tucker no longer on the air
possessing the virility of mary jo salter
madonna in die another day fencing scene
the scorpion lifting its lance
ching-in chen slaughtering an albino deer
the convenor of bullet & dance
the poet ai shouting action!
transmitting ur missives
as the construction worker whips his head around
for quality assurance
he’s whitman’s type
they’re now an item of equal or lesser value
the banality of evil being a portrait of domestic bliss
u come to my event to fuck me
roll under the garage door as it’s coming down
for a moment feeling that anything’s possible
how anne frank would’ve been a belieber
& ur body beneath all those clothes
the color of my skin being important
to everyone but me
FUTURE PIRATE RADIO
fake rat blood trophy
joyce carol invented bigotry
the police have airpods in
bitch don’t trust them
to burp me
eric i invented ur tush
w. the squarish indents
my fragile disposition
deserving of several oscars
she’s not like the other goirls
she built different
than the goirls
crippling
yo bitch
not the first to leave
looking like little foot
high heel shu
hot chip n lies
our love is comprehensive
both sides of the tracks
vertebrate n invertebrate
single eyelid n double
black n pink
stonewall n clubs
thrown at cars
we tortured we genius
we slay we slain
we man we g.o.a.t.
pan’s labyrinth
i’m iconic
she’s a writer
gud luck to her
collapsed like cardboard
u wanna smash
wouldn’t u like to
find out
ROSE & CUIR
actually i don’t think i’d mind
u knowing my sweat & sperm
like obscure lyrics committed to memory
or a cascading fountain after the fall of gaddafi
i realize it’s customary to say i’m giving in to night
but sleep i’m not the surrendering kind
take me evening w. honeyed limbs
i like how u sometimes come apart
neither cheap nor a thrill sorta unhinged
everything sluggish complications a consensus choice
suppose we ignore things that aren’t me
roll our eyes at grief & prizes for poets over 40
i read these poems & think u will fuck these poets
fuck the shit outta them yes we know the truth
just do it fuck their buckteeth straight
liz claiborne headbands all bent outta shape
dispose of them & remind them ur a fuccboi
ur mastercock hopping a chainlink fence
leaving them alone w. their garbage snoozer poems
shivering colors & small towns in italics
come back to me give me ur stomach
press into me allow me one small happiness
✶✶✶✶
Michael Chang (they/them) is the author of Synthetic Jungle (Northwestern University Press, 2023), Toy Soldiers (Action, Spectacle, 2024), and Things A Bright Boy Can Do (Coach House Books, 2025). They edit poetry at Fence.
✶
Whenever possible, we link book titles to Bookshop, an independent bookselling site. As a Bookshop affiliate, Another Chicago Magazine earns a small percentage from qualifying purchases.
Another Chicago Magazine 