John Wieners

Jan 16, 2024 | poets.org | Kyle Lopez |Kay Gabriel |John Wieners

Find and share the perfect poems. I’ve crashed a party with an infinity pool and several nude men: a Fire Island home at the back of a walkway long enough to outlast a pop song’s bridge and some chorus, flanked by phragmites on either side, tall and same-faced, so all but reed bulk hides out from the exterior. Myself included, close to everyone here has a body of one approximate build. What would it say if I stay?

Dec 7, 2023 | poetryfoundation.org | John Wieners

I sit in Lees. At 11:40 PM with Jimmy the pusher. He teaches me Ju Ju. Hot on the table before us shrimp foo yong, rice and mushroom chow yuke. Up the street under the wheels of a strange car is his stash—The ritual. We make it. And have made it. For months now together after midnight. Soon I know the fuzz will interrupt, will arrest Jimmy and I shall be placed on probation. The poem does not lie to us.