Back to Issue Fifty-Five

middle school & other initiations

BY PHIL SAINTDENISSANCHEZ

 

i.

the first time i really saw the stars

they hit me / first time they hit me

i really saw the stars

Pleiades & their oceanic mother

washed over my nymph body

still childing idyllic &

on the cusp of shifting

constellations

the second strike

loosened Orion’s belt & i saw

the world fall out of myself

i lay naked on the concrete

through the rest of the strikes

while all the stars watched

& told me i wasn’t enough

in every way

i wasn’t enough

what the fuck is that

who the fuck is that

said the stars

like they were destiny

but they had human bodies &

          human names like Max

          & Nick

          & Chris

even as they violated me

from above

i tried to talk to the gods

who were also above me

so who & where was i?

& how could a child

know the difference

between them & the godly sky?

ii.

the words where my lips have been

the voice my throat would one day make sonorous

the names my body knew as mine

there’s nothing left of me

but the afterflash of butterfly wings

leaving the path

leaving the path is the only way

to become what i need to become

i got kicked out of public schools in seventh grade

i’d already been pumping since late that winter anyway

how they let me stay after we Bravehearted

the private school next door

i told them not to run their mouths

just cuz they had numbers for a brief moment

the next day

when their school let out

we charged them a hundred deep

& sent everyone fleeing back inside &

bolting the door

they kept it pushing after that

my best friend hated me

but we were both wild & uncontrollable

i heard his dad had connects in Colombia

& i had friends in places he couldn’t walk

he had five enemies for every friend

i was the opposite

so we were useful to each other

when he was killed in the middle of a house party

for smacking one of his runners around

everyone saw it coming

i heard it was the largest obstruction of justice filing

outside of a RICO in the history of the country

they made the whole house party bury the body

& swore them to secrecy

she swore me to secrecy so i can’t tell you how much older she was

when she went down on me in the woods in the summer

between eighth & ninth grade

but i will tell you she drove us there

she tried to swallow me but i just

hit throat &        hit the back of throat &              touched throat &

            some eternal hunger

             she swallowed the life at the end of desire

             & told me to watch porn & compare

          like maybe i have a future, new eyes,

          a body worthy of life,

         & the L i light to lean harder into breath

the L leans me back into the hardest relax

i drip the coconut oil down the length to slow the light

let the shine beckon angels

bathing in the screen

i study the bounce

freeze the bodies

& hold myself up to compare:

my width is clear

&

i feel my new power

stretch the air

out before me

hard to say on length

i’m almost there

but most of all

i’m finding beauty where i was

first taught shame / smooth

with the turquoise & amethyst veins

light beneath my darker, olive skin

my purple radiating deep night is quiet

& needing nothing

i relax into god’s mind

lord i lean into the sun

even when it’s not out

you can be who you want to be i tell myself

you don’t have to be powerless

& i soak in my power

still i awake depowered & shaking it

wondering where it went

its states seem infinite & i oscillate with them

i count at least eight

at least eight arrests that i can remember

the first was for grand theft auto

but i was twelve & just a backseat passenger

they thought i’d break when i came home to

a detective at my family’s kitchen table

the next year

but i was just moving ounces

&

i knew they didn’t have

anything on me

they just wanted me

for whom i knew & my infinite time

god i felt like i knew everyone

Freddy & i laughed ourselves through the smoke

the last time he sold me a qp

he gave me an extra bag for free

right before Samuel Sheinbein

& Needle

killed him with a sawed-off

& burned the body

Sheinbein fled to Israel & the US somehow lost

the extradition battle to a country whose existence it funds

i heard about my dead friend on the news

for a full year

including from my dad when

he was in Gaza

while bombs in the background

decorated his voice on the phone

as it carried across

so many walls

to get to me

their thunder signaling so many deaths

Ahmed wasn’t even a teenager

iii.

i wasn’t even a teenager when i

hotboxed the playhouse in

my grandmother’s backyard

let the front door yawn smoke

& hopped the fence

on my way to Martin’s for Muffaletta

i heard fireworks that weren’t fireworks

i saw fire dance from one car window to another

like when you love someone so much

you turn their world to nothing

but light

light like leaving a seashell

repeating the ocean

the ocean how i wept

how i wept Carlos didn’t make it

he was my favorite Carlos, too

big Carlos tried to show me his dick while we were high in

Brian’s backyard

i got a glimpse & told him he wasn’t doing

himself any favors

but the Carlos who got shot in front of his grandmother’s

building in the summer between seventh & eighth grade

had such a good heart—

& was way more fun to get high with

he was in love with V

just like everyone else

but he still gave me

props after i hooked up with her

behind the tennis wall

during Social Studies

she gave me slow blessings & slow love

let love slow / Carlos with the good heart

got aired out in front of his abuela’s building

left him full of quiet windows

& good questions

good questions leaking all over the

street / himself / every /

where / beyond

himself

where the brightest star is left alone

beyond myself in a clear mirror i gaze up &

down the length of my lost self,

wonder where i’ve been hiding inside myself

 

let unseen beauty clear my path,

keep me safe in this dark world

taste the victory spilling from me slowly, love

slow love, i’ve beautiful’d my way back to you

for good

this time

Phil SaintDenisSanchez is a Creole poet from New Orleans. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best New Poets, Poetry International, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. His poem “monarchs are the communication medium for when i die” was a finalist for Poetry International‘s C.P. Cavafy Prize and his chapbook “watch out for falling bullets” was a finalist for The Atlas Review‘s and Button Poetry’s chapbook contests, and a notable manuscript for BOAAT‘s chapbook contest. A semifinalist for the 2020 Discovery Prize, he has received scholarships to attend Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and presented at AWP on creating collaborations between poetry and music. Button Poetry recently published his debut collection, before & after our bodies, in 2025. He studied music theory and composition at The City College of New York, records under the name SaintDenisSanchez, and currently lives in Brooklyn.

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