Donkey Sauce Sonnet, by M. Bartley Seigel

Donkey Sauce Sonnet
— Tom McAllister


My lovers strain and headache, all junkies,
a midnight tightrope act in spurs, uncouth,
feet suspended down into black, pinkies
up. Yours or mine? I want it in the mouth.
Give me the donkey sauce, Guy Fieri,
while fruit flies buzz the wine barrels and fat
girls tear their lips from cigarettes to scare
the last feral act. Won’t you come for that?
Yank a boar's head from the water gasping,
young and naked in uncanny valley,
my lovers clutch work quietly asking
what time is it, black dahlia, blind alley?
             So be it, this day, our flesh so blue bruised.
             In lust, I'm afraid, we're all of us screwed.

M. Bartley Seigel is the author of This Is What They Say (poetry, Typecast Publishing), and his writing has appeared in DIAGRAM, Forklift Ohio, H_NGM_N, Michigan Quarterly Review, Thrush, and numerous other literary magazines. He is currently reviews editor for Words without Borders and was the founding editor of PANK Magazine. He teaches at Michigan Technological University in Houghton, Michigan, where he lives with his family.