Dante Fuoco
To Men Who Bike, No Mask Adorned
In Prospect Park thou bikes, no mask adorned.
Thy wheels expensive, yes, although, my dear,
Not more than life, not more than mine—you’re gone!
A racing man. Oh, yes. A fuckboi clear.
Imagine babies (thou is one). So cute
until they shit—yet diapers curb the mess.
To call your mouth a hole is true, though mute
you heave on hills. So get your ass a dress.
Dear fuckboi, listen: Mask4Mask is life.
Though air tastes nice I feel it pulse with dread.
Dear, fuckboi—no! What do thou make of strife?
What fuckboi stops? What fuckboi counts the dead?
I sense thou’ll cheer at seven, mouth askew.
At night I’ll dream of herding little ewe.
—Submitted on 09/06/2020
Dante Fuoco‘s work appears in KGB Bar Lit and Saints+Sinners 2018. He holds a BA from Swarthmore College. A Pittsburgh native, Fuoco now lives in Brooklyn, where he is a restorative justice coordinator in the NYC public schools, and coaches an LGBTQIA+ adult swim team.
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