I was in my car on my way back from lunch listening to NPR. Yes. I listen to it. lol. There was this guy, Kevin Young, talking about a book he had written. Poetry book with a Noir theme. He read some of it on the radio, and I knew right away I wanted to buy it. The book is called
Black Maria. Then I went online to find out more about him, and found this one by him. I was so impressed I want everyone to know about him. This guy is fucking awesome!

Here's the poem I found, it's called (Stills)


(Stills)
by Kevin Young

We undress shy
as a gun.
*
The mailman’s son, I am
nor snow, nor night, nor gloom.
*
Her eyelashes long
& false as an alarm.
*
He say, she say,
foreplay, amscray.
*
Her cocktail dress pours
over my bare floor.
*
Her feather boa
hissing yes.
*
Without her I am incomplete—
prehensible, licit, couth.
*
Wisdom this tooth
aching I want removed.
(Stills)


With her, guilty
was my only plea.
*
When we kiss her leg kicks
up like a chorus line!
*
The next day what awaits: flat fizz,
an ache cured only by bitters.
*
Two eggs,
over queasy.
*
Chew fat. Spit
blood. Gargle peroxide. Repeat.
*
She’s pro
bono, a quid pro.
*
I’ve given, like gin,
her up, again.
*
Even my shadow
has me followed.

Copyright © Kevin Young