on Jukin wit a WhiteBoy

The body is a collection of curves, fleshy fat drenched in the smell

of sweat falling off it is programmed to move toward the one and

three of the others here have asked to dance but I eyed you

until your pupils told me to come listen to my heartbeat, let it guide your feet should move this way, back, forth, back, forth, right, left, right,

left do you follow the trail of the rhythm once stolen follow me into

the muck of it all where my hand grabs your hip and guides it like a

wave in the ocean, us drowning here I am still a black boy, still in

the pit of the white, still the exotic, still the fresh meat erection

curdling the clean floor only accepted when a pale winter boy took

my hand to guide me to the open mouth of the beast to throw me in.

Jason B. Crawford is black, bi-poly-queer, and a damn force of nature. In addition to being published in online literary magazines, such as BeLightFilled and The Knight’s Library, Jason is a recurring host poet for Ann Arbor OUTFest. He is currently working on publishing his second volume of poetry, and will be Ann Arbor Poetry’s featured poet in March 2019.