Brian Czyzyk

I Have to Tell Myself There Will Be Other Boys

There will be boys with long hair—
blond boys, bunned boys, boys whose heads
I kiss that coat my lips with grease.

There will be bartender boys, bass-hooking
boys, painters and plumbers and buttoned-up
botany boys. Grocers and gas-guzzlers

and boys who boast an absent gag reflex.
Transatlantic boys who will feed me
scoops of curry I savor and bits

of fish I spit out. There will be
deadbeat boys, selfish guitar-strummers
who rip lines from poems I swore

would never go to print. Clueless
boys, first-time fucks, try-me-on
-for-size straight boys. Boys

with dimpled laughter, boys two heads
taller—quiet, simple giants who hold
me during movies. Horny horror

crazed boys, South Beach dieticians,
Instapoet upvote boys. Boys I get
to leave. Boys I won’t leave

soon enough. Shattered mug against
mirror boys. Scream when they get pissed
boys. Whiskey-sour-sopped boys,

faceless profile fuckbois, lonely
limp liars and Harley-revving leather
boys. My heart is playing

Russian roulette, waiting to bite
the bullet of one lucky cocked
and loaded, boattail-tongued boy.

Brian Czyzyk is an MFA candidate at Purdue University, originally from Northern Michigan. An AWP Intro Journals Project winner, his work has appeared in Nimrod, Split Rock Review, and Colorado Review, among others.