David Trinidad Poems

The night reduced to a siren, a sigh:

Beautiful boy on the treadmill

Glimpsed sweating through sweating glass—
...

In color photographs, my childhood house looks
fresh as an uncut sheet cake—
pale yellow buttercream, ribbons of white trim
...

I went to his sixty-sixth birthday
dinner: sixteen years ago this past
November. I remember that it was at
Chelsea Central (his favorite restaurant:
...

Depressed because my
book wasn't nominated
for a gay award,
...

came in a pink,
orange and white
striped metal tube,
with a black curlicue
...

Bewitched
the boys were out
in force

Drunken-
ness and lust
...

To be one such one—for one night only.
To be singled out
for this brief distinction
...

for Nick Twemlow

It's annoying
how much
junk mail
...