“Days of 1993, ’94, and ’95”: Poetry by Benjamin S. Grossberg
Days of 1993, ’94, and ’95
The Montrose Clinic, Houston
Timing; the lag. You couldn’t know....
She Came Late to Writing: Poetry by Davi Walders
She Came Late to Writing
She came late, her wheelchair hooked
to a Critikon, her smile still slightly there,
a bright red bandana tight around her head.
She...
Tornado: Poetry by Hank Trout
Hank Trout edited Drummer, Malebox, and Folsom magazines in the early 1980s. His published writing has ranged from gay “smut” (his term!) to literary...
At the LGBT History Museum in San Francisco…: Poetry by Sean...
Winner of the 2015 Christopher Hewitt Award: Poetry
Born and raised in Southern Virginia, the house where Sean Patrick Mulroy grew up was built in...
New New Colossus: Poetry by Noah Stetzer
Winner of the 2015 Christopher Hewitt Award: Poetry
After recovering from Pneumocystis jirovecii pneumonia five years ago, Noah Stetzer went back to school and last...
The Challenge of Adherence: Poetry by Noah Stetzer
Though it lacks the deliberateness of fire
setting the bridges or boats once one’s passed
into strange lands or foe’s territory—
dark Rubicon crossed over on horseback,
fighting...
Visit IV: Poetry by Mary Kathryn Vernon
Editor's note: Originally appeared in the August 2005 issue of A&U.
Visit IV
On the skirted porch
that flanks two sides of the house,
on a wicker table,
kept...
Shades: Poetry by Jim Nawrocki
Originally featured in the January 2010 issue of A&U.
Shades
Inspired by the filming of Gus Van Sant’s film Milk,
in San Francisco’s Castro district, January, 2008
They...
Walking with Angels: Poetry by Emanuel Xavier
Editor's note: Originally featured in the June 2008 issue of A&U.
Walking with Angels
for Lindsay
AIDS
knows the condom wrapped penetration
of strangers and lovers, deep inside
only a...
Two Decades and then Some: Poetry by Raymond Luczak
Two Decades and then Some
No one writes about the dead anymore.
The fear of infection and loss isn’t so dramatic now.
Pills are today’s answer to...
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Reaching Past Silence: Poetry by Joe Babcock
Reaching Past Silence
It was the summer we had to be smaller
than towns where boys with pretty smiles
get their teeth knocked out.
To be blood brothers...
