Blow breath like pocket
money—some real wet wads
wasted on our tongues—filthy
rich and thick with it—suck
and gasp and sigh—a hole
wearing into the crotch
of our pants—the moon
flattens and fills—slashed-up
soursop, a lemon—pucker
perfect—my teeth knocking
at your throat’s front door
my lips—a crosshair
your mouth—a pistol
Eric Tran is a queer Vietnamese poet and the author of Mouth, Sugar, and Smoke (Diode Editions, forthcoming 2022) and The Gutter Spread Guide to Prayer (Autumn House Press). He serves as an associate editor for Orison Press and a poetry reader for the Los Angeles Review. He has received awards and recognition from Prairie Schooner, New Delta Review, Best of the Net, and others. His work appears in RHINO, 32 Poems, the Missouri Review and elsewhere. He is a resident physician in psychiatry in Asheville, NC.