Three Poems by Ryanaustin Dennis

Work by the Oakland curator/artist/writer

(art by Christian Johnson)

Powerhouse
In the turn of the leaf, w/ a deft turn of cheek

I gargled on the cheap Italian cock that tattooed 

the back of my throat, deliciously 

slipping each viral drop of perversion 

Had I,

now arrived the queen of Folsom? 

Glittering in steamy white concoction, dewy eyed 

A fetish of a fetish on a fetish 

Whatever happened happened, and the exchange of brides white milt 

lavished the red lane  I possessed 

And as my halo sizzled into cosmic bliss 

I fell into the hollow nightwing 

Giddy, gracious, and golden. 

Dimestore
how 

long does it last

until it becomes 

rage? 

You

dimestore 

snake.

knuckles bent for 

girth.

can

i

feel the crack of elemental 

gunfire?

warm

mouth-feeling

when

you are

within

proximity.

the

withering

of

black type.

 i

place 2 

dimes

face down on the counter 

to buy a toy. 

And as 

i

breach

the

doorway

i

find the first 

mirth 

filled

gentrifier

and

rattle-tattle

clip-clack

1, 2, 3. 

A Chair in Holding
A Chair in Holding 

How will I mold my death?  

Carving out of infinitude

the boldest limit. 

A vision waits in my eyes 

I know what it means to be a chair.

I inherit its relation to the body 

to be 

sat on 

moved

broken 

polished 

veneered  

durated 

crafted 

Am I all those things, 

over and under it?

and 

To think a wondrous irony, 

that when Obama dies this country will be 

obligated to mourn.

Tilts its wind whipped mast  

for a man made of nothing 

Hay wheel and match sticked together 

in his little nigger heaven, with 

tarry tart angels too chubby to sit

I know what it means to wait, 

sliding over the bones of a thing 

Murmuring, in a room, with one sharp 

streak of shadow licking up my leg

praying 

“Goddess bless this shadow 

Goddess thrust your resting head against me 

Goddess, goddess, goddess.”

Ryanaustin Dennis is an Oakland-based artist/writer/curator, you can find more of their work here