/n w carter

Cotton Candy Raccoon


all the working instruments inside me never asleep

I invent things when I cannot see them

I fill in space when it should be blank

I switch codes

and so / I ride the wave of your face

how long can I hold that memory loop

when it fades there is a grief

what I put in water dissolves in my hand

the gif
in which
the raccoon
puts cotton candy in water
to wash it
& it

and I am left with me again

the invisible feelings

my voice is rusty dust off

whatever was settled is rising

this occasion has me waking




my name means gift
the act of walking in water
and carrier

and do we embody the obscure
unused meanings of our names

am I destined to give
gifts of chopped wood and carried water

I learn how to hear
what the echoes say
what I am shouting
in the first place
into the hole of my body

the mummified lovers
of Pompeii were found to be two men
so the history books change the caption
Two Friends Embrace (No Homo)

the homo is erased
a corralling or policing of wrists

men are not supposed to give
to surpass certain limits

you don’t want coal
but you don’t want to own
the segmented geode inside

be broken it’s pretty


Nathan Wade Carter is a queer, non-binary, grey-a poet, musician, and artist living in Portland, Oregon. His chapbook is ROYGBIV (Ursus Americanus Press 2017). His poetry can be found in Hobart, Fugue, Gramma Poetry, Poor Claudia, The Fem, & others. He is editor and founder of SUSAN / The Journal. He writes and performs songs under the name Purrbot. Find him online at nathanwadecarter.com.