Timothy Liu

September 5, 2015 Liu Timothy



Said he had some hard sledding to do.

Flatware so cheap you could bend the handles back,
no telekinesis required.

I’m not saying it wasn’t charming.
I’m just not saying it was.

Had the kind of smile that could get all charges dropped.
Choking my throat till the cartilage cracked.

Who decides when the cows come home?

I’ll tell you what Paradise is: a freshly-executed prisoner.
The harvest his body makes an organ-donor Eden.

Your name right there at the bottom of the list.





a jazz
be-bop melody
could hardly unsex
Dizzy who blew
epistrophe out of the V.-
F.W. doors—syncopated bu-
galoo out-
ing ranger
joes smoking blues and BBQ—
kiss-ass crip-crap
lollygagging ho-
mo gang-banged fun
no greater than the sum
of their shameful
parts where crackerjack
queens all stupid on mary j
rollicked in the pews—ASCAP and BMI
sucked off and high
till kingdom came—gog magog
under house arrest if
vodka-shot scats were crime
wherever dosed
XXs marked the spot—high-C
yodels sailing all the way past hip-flab

Timothy Liu’s latest book is Down Low and Lowdown: Bedside Bottom-Feeder Blues. He lives in Manhattan and Woodstock, NY. timothyliu.net

(For more information on Timothy Liu, see his website).