Poem

Every man’s the same man
like every poem’s a poem or like sex is like sex.
JOHN ASHBERY: Not true!
FRANK O’HARA: Who’s that mouthy brunette with the pen?
JAMES SCHUYLER: I miss my boyfriend!
JAMES MERRILL: These white gays called me fusty.
We’re all made up of miniatures of the men we loved or hated.
Still history makes for a lousy trench coat,
hardly hides the selves we’ve stacked and cart for popcorn.
JAMES MERRILL: What’s your name again?
ME: David.
JAMES MERRILL: That’s my boyfriend’s name!
It’s the game of tradition we’re made to play:
“If the shoe fits.”

About the Author

David Ehmcke lives in Brooklyn. His recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Drift, The Hopkins Review, the Notre Dame Review, The Missouri Review, Volume Poetry, swamp pink, Image, Sixth Finch, EPOCH, and bethh mag. David is the author of History of Lyric (Quarterly West, 2026).