To Lindsay Johnson
Your
Eyes are nothing like the sun
Your whimsy, my flimsy
If snow must be white, why then her —I musn’t
Would that I’d gotte into
Oxford
Neath thine Sheets
My Johnson on silk
Dearest Katy Osborn:
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
If only we were at New Haven’s Taste of China For Valentine’s Day number two!
To Ezra Ritchin:
I love that you
Believe in social justice
But there’s no social justice
Until there’s just us
To Tyler Varga:
#FeedVarga
Tyler how do you run so fast?
Tyler how do you lift so much?
Tyler, you never ever come in last
Tyler, you play with a perfect touch
Tyler how do you always score?
Tyler how do you eat all that food?
Tyler, you’re so hard to ignore
Tyler, you’ve got such a great attitude
I’ll miss you—number thirty
Tyler, you’re my favorite jock
Tyler, I love that you’re so flirty
Tyler, I love your big huge
calves.
To Anonymous
Your leopard-spotted sheen
Shimmers in the dim evening light
I want to slip into you,
To be enveloped in the warm caress
Fuzzy, dampened by sweat
You are slippers my grandmother gave me.
Kohler Bruno
Bailando.
Striped sweater,
You make me feel better.
Dance, Kohler. Dance.
Lil hand motions—big heart.
Hold me closer,
Tiny Kohler.
I musn’t.
Jamie Cooper:
Dawn breaks on those dimples
Your eyes glimmer in the sun
Fair Providence Princess
Damn look at those buns
To Ben McCoubrey:
You are now chief of a department
Of which I was once assistant to the chief
I hope that means
You want to bang.
Dear Oliver Preston:
You always get the seat
next to the outlet at Book Trader.
How?
Colin Groundwater:
If I were a dog,
I would bark sweet nothings in your ear.
Instead I am writing you this poem.
Dogs don’t have opposable thumbs.
Drake:
You do the things
all the things.
And you feel the things too.
Oh, those things that you do.
I would get high with you and see where things went.
Baton Girl (the way you spin that thing):
The twirl girl
Missy Chrissy
A fond blonde
Rock on
with that baton
till the break of dawn
Sexy, sensual, (theta) sista
O Lara, when will you and me,
Kohl–I musn’t
O, Lara
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
F is for–I musn’t
F is for the fire of our love.
President Salovey:
Flowers bloom in may,
In December there’s snow,
All I’m tryna say,
is “dat ass doe.”
An Ode to Michael Herbert
Michael Herbert
Orange sherbert
Khaki visor
Apple cider
Flag pin
Tonic n Gin
Sweater vest
Hashtag blessed
Michael Herbert
not a pervert
Perfect president
Saybrook resident
Part-time boxer
kind of a slow talker
American patriot
beautiful spirit
Michael Herbert
perfect dress shirt
He’s in ROTC
I wish he’d go out with me
He’s a Grade A seaman
and gives me that feelin
a treasure of Yale
it’s you we hail
Michael Herbert
Orange sherbert
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