ChristianAveryBryant

Vagina Prostate

"Break a leg!" Sethel whispers into
Vagina Prostate's
bejeweled ear
The same ear Sethel nibbled upon
not twenty minutes ago
in the green room
of the "Lilac Pussy Cat"
two streets down
and one block
from Sethel's
West Hollywood
condo
Life used to be such a
drag
and now
they're both
drags
(queens that is)
and it couldn't get better
than this
Sethel handles the
bookings
Prostate handles the
queer humor
"We're not all fags,"
Prostate always quips
in a faux limey
accent,
"but we certainly all
suck on them
alike!"
(Prostate smokes
during the delivery)
Two more months
like this
and maybe
Sethel will
get over
the tiny pussy
Prostate was
born with
"Break a leg!" Sethel whispers into
Vagina Prostate's
bejeweled ear
(this time meaning it
literally)
as he finally realizes
he's so tired of all
the dolled up tarts
and, catching the eye
of a clean young
busboy
shoves
Vagina Prostate
from backstage
to downcenter
offstage

Directing Persephone

"So mature for her age"
they say, hiding discomfort
while
Jean-Pierre directs
Persephone
oblivious
"They will think the worst"
they complain, discomfort showing
while
Jean-Pierre directs
Persephone
(eleven years old)
to spread her legs
as if receiving
a lover
and not
a bicycle
seat

Company of a Woman

Oh, how I love to speak with you (yet I can not look at you)
Daily we (always you a woman different) converse
In the midst of speech (curve of your neck) I am distracted
In the middle of meals (the scent of your womb) I lose focus
Oh, how I love to speak with you (yet not sit beside you)
Conversation keeps me sane (your eyes upon my lips and mine yours)
A reminder of some small loneliness murdered (curves of your hips)
Intellect shared between minds (your breasts warm and soft)
A connection between souls (my sex buried in yours)
Oh, how I love to speak with you (yet I can not smell you)
Shame that wanting every woman with whom (naked and prone)
I have the opportunity to speak (exploding into the belly of joy)
can ruin the simple pleasure of a woman's company

I started writing horror fiction in 2001 and have published
short stories and an upcoming illustrated novelette in several small
press magazines and anthologies. Strangely, I am still finding my
voice, and the last couple years discovered poetry was part of that
voice.

Christian Avery Bryant's poetry can be read on