Damon Hubbs

Soviet Sports Halls and Young Men with Erections 

     It’s a big day for anyone 
who cares about serious literature. 
I’m so devastated 
I baked a cake for the party. 
When you say It’s not heaven
It’s New Haven  
I think of Soviet sports halls 
and young men with erections, 
satellites detecting threats 
in negative space. 

     Let’s get a discourse going 
the combat shock 
of slutty waists and jangly teeth.  
Exercise is a natural cocaine. 
The disparaged propagandist is here. 
The disgraced financier.
Send nudes. Send drones. 
The boss drives a pink Tesla. 
He puffs his chest like Idi Amin.  
What other way 

     is there to say it. Ask that Rilke(y) poet 
from Vermont 
she’s always pissing at the moon. 
Ladies and gentlemen 
of the future, I fail to know 
the world 
for what it is. 
Your biceps are strange bedfellows.  
I’m in the ratline like 
something worse than naked.