By Shane Allison
My belly is my hurt locker
Where I hold years of pain,
And the kind of anger that destroys
Towns like a Tennessee tornado and there are no survivors.
No matter how many pushups I do,
I will never burn off this bitterness.
Every stretch mark is a daisy chain of memories.
This one tells the story of the day dad beat me
Because I embarrassed him
In front of his former high school football coach
For not dressing out in gym.
This one tells of the day he went to prison for a year
And we had to rustle up dinner by standing in line at food banks.
This one that trails down to my thigh
Tells of the look you gave me
When that mall cop told you
I was being arrested for indecent exposure.
These stretch marks mark the night
You told me you would rather be dead
Than have a gay son. Do you remember?
I was only nineteen and not as sweet.
This one that leads down to my belly button
Is the day dad called me a sissy.
I heard him outside the bathroom window.
So in case you’re wondering what happened to me,
Why I won’t be the son you want me to be,
It’s not due to fried chicken or pork chop sandwiches,
Or late night snacks of raisin creme pies
Or nutty buddies,
But a rage unlike anything you will ever know.
Shane Allison was bit by the writing bug at the age of fourteen. He spent a majority of his high school life shying away in the library behind desk cubicles writing bad love poems about boys he had crushes on. He has since gone on to publish four chapbooks of poetry Black Fag, Ceiling of Mirrors, Cock and Balls, I Want to Fuck a Redneck, Remembered Men and Live Nude Guys, as well as four full-length poetry collections, I Remember (Future Tense Books), Slut Machine (Rebel Satori Press), Sweet Sweat ( Hysterical Books), and most recently I Want to Eat Chinese Food Off Your Ass (Dumpster Fire Press). He has edited twenty-five anthologies of gay erotica, and has written two novels, You’re the One I Want and Harm Done (Simon and Schuster Publishing).
Hot Pot Magazine 