TWO POEMS by Jonathan Jacob Moore


micro aggression


violence is not the answer

unless you ask:



how did you make find out of flesh?



how do you dispose of evidence when you are

the evidence?







one night stand with colorblind black


i thumb and twist the free coils of his hair, still stubborn steerage

refusing my hands as pilot


the bed is stubborn steerage or the hardest water bed

ever slept in,

            he wants me to tell him

 his name, i tell him

it doesn’t matter. not

because i love him. no,

we just met and are covered in 2(?) hours of sweat and

i know his name.


            i am running away from his finger but

to his command,

like tomorrow’s massacre,

return to it with conviction. no,


no, no,


it doesn’t matter what your name is.



Jonathan Jacob Moore, or Jon Jon, is a Black Mexican bitchboi & hoodqueer poet from Detroit. He studies at Tufts and appreciates good hugs, cold cheesecake, and motor-city-sweet-Black pettiness. 


His work has been featured or is soon to appear in The Black Napkin, The James Franco Review, Vinyl, and Winter Tangerine among others.


Twitter: @hoodqueer




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