Blue Room, Fake Blue Veins | Peter Scalpello |Granta

Blue Room, Fake Blue Veins

Peter Scalpello

‘[left home rented a room / spinning with mould] it almost turned me / straight.’ A new poem by Peter Scalpello.

Brother, there’s so much that I could never say
to your face, a mythic thing.
Lately I’ve been pacing
’round the analogue autumnneither of us
existed in, cuticlelesskicking the same
stone up and down the pavement
outside tenement buildings,out my mind
on fortified wine and football scores
to hide otherness.
the body sexualised as male
resists arrest,sinks deeper into cerulean apology,uranus rains

[left home rented a room
spinning with mould] it almost turned me
[woke up gay
as ever] on the revolving
jail cell floor
me & my notquiteninety days
[still flying       from the night before]
the crowded urinal made [a queer fight
club] of mypositionality
i become my maker in [these jazzed falls
staggered] the hard shoulder [length
of a psychiatrist’s waiting list]
needingfor fluids or gender [not to
drown in]
en route
to [pluck all the hairs from this body
&] start from [scratch]the red light
leans so adoringlyon self
-inflicted traffic& little wrecked
childhoods           [everywhere]

i’m in love again
to romanticise
private enterprise but
what is named can be felt
& if we do not take
into ourselves,we wither

I need new words to explain
the things I’m capable of with my shirt untucked,
the things I’m capable of
inalienably—I’d un-it all
if I could,my life
our own.


Image © Stuart Crawford

Peter Scalpello

Peter Scalpello is a queer poet and sexual health therapist from Glasgow. Their work has appeared in Five Dials, fourteen poems, Gutter, harana poetry, perverse, and Under the Radar, among other literary magazines, prizes and anthologies. Peter’s first collection, Limbic, is published by Cipher Press.

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