Keagan Wheat
Dear Logan,
Portsmouth never had
many kids when I needed
to learn how to play games.
Those kids wouldn’t recognize
the immaculate transition my body
suffered through. I don’t think we
are still friends. I have fewer curves
like the intimidating modern
house, squared and barren.
Caeneus should have been enough
to lift logs or escape aspiration.
The cherry mo-ped
circled the block twice
before leaving, and I still
was hurt by your anger
over my body.
many kids when I needed
to learn how to play games.
Those kids wouldn’t recognize
the immaculate transition my body
suffered through. I don’t think we
are still friends. I have fewer curves
like the intimidating modern
house, squared and barren.
Caeneus should have been enough
to lift logs or escape aspiration.
The cherry mo-ped
circled the block twice
before leaving, and I still
was hurt by your anger
over my body.
Biography
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Keagan Wheat (he/they) writes poetry on FTM identity and congenital heart disease. His work appears in Anti-Heroin Chic, The Acentos Review, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, and more. Check out his interviews with Brooklyn Poets and Poets and Muses. Living in Houston, he enjoys collecting odd dinosaur facts and listening to many podcasts. Find them @kwheat09 on Twitter and Instagram.
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