Sending a Nude to Saint Peter at the Gates of Heaven on Accident



Look and see what God has made: ramshackle,

some lean-to motel kissed on the collar of the desert, safe haven

for rattlesnake. He calls it good, no? Or is it no good?


I’ve been waiting for the apocalypse, praying

that she will take me in her mouth; that the Angel

of Death has strong head-game. I’ve taken to

cutting the wings off dragonflies hoping they

will just become dragons. Hades is empty and all

the devils are sipping martinis in their suits and ties

talking about running for re-election.

   And here am I:


not caring about the size of my erection or the mole

on my navel or the constellation Orion freckled onto

my left ass-cheek. Do you think Satan actually has

a special place in hell for all artists? If he might,

I would ask for, not special treatment, but the ability

to wander off into a sulfurous, stalactite-ridden night.

Samuel J Fox is a bisexual poet/essayist living in Raleigh, NC. He is poetry editor for Bending Genres and creative nonfiction reader at Homology Lit; he is also a frequent columnist/reviewer for Five 2 One Magazine. He appears at coffee shops, in dilapidated places, and graveyards depending. He tweets (@samueljfox).