ECOLOGIA DIGITALE

Guardian Superior

I am not so much in love with a person as I am

an act of vengeance. 

A man I knew played piano. I have 

a thing for military boys and musicians.

I would like one more cup of coffee before I hit 

the road – Mr. Dylan convinced me. This is revenge:

warming hands on smooth ceramic mugs

before I depart, hair getting staticky in the thick air

between the congealing storm and the stars.

When I leave the apartment, it will be with a gun 

the color of horses’ flanks. I am drinking 

Folger’s coffee on the hood of a car with 

my wings spread behind me on red 

chrome, cascading like a cassette 

tape’s gutted film. I am in love.

I will put a bullet in the base of his skull.

The Most Sacred Heart of Jesus

Heap of wrecked transsexual chests, chilled

now there’s no more blood, only the icy

touch of grace. “Redeemed. No 

longer beasts — why would

you want to be animals?” To lay 

in the tall grasses as the scales

and the pelts do, stinking and

dreaming under the wild wind.

-Apollo Chastain

Apollo (ze/hir) is a 20-year-old who writes poetry for people who didn’t think they’d make it this far and for kids who don’t think they’re gonna make it at all. The recipient of the 2021 Academy of American Poets Prize and three-time winner of the National YoungArts competition, Apollo’s work appears in journals including Poets.org, Vagabond City, and the Trans Masc Diaries, and under a dead name in journals including The Rumpus, Lunch Ticket, and Yes Poetry. Pay hir a visit at apollopoet.wordpress.com, or on Instagram @apollo.chastain