top of page

"Driving Across the Texas Panhandle, the Sky Blushed" by Anthony DiPietro

the roads not yet wet—

beside them, cuts in ashen earth,

flat and dark and complicated.


I occupied a point in space

somewhere between sunset, far behind me,

and sky before me, which became

a photo shoot, blue-grey

drapery illuminated, flash after flash.


I thought of home—of him—

knowing he too was between

two invisible horizons: his decision

to pour another drink

and his body’s last

lightning bolt.


 

Anthony DiPietro is a gay Rhode Island native who has worked in community-based organizations throughout his career. In 2016, he joined Stony Brook University, where he earned a creative writing MFA, taught college courses, and planned and diversified arts programming. He is now associate director of the Rose Art Museum in Waltham, Massachusetts. A graduate of Brown University with honors in creative writing, his poems and essays have appeared in The Chattahoochee Review, Notre Dame Review, The Southampton Review, Washington Square Review, and others. He has been a finalist with Coal Hill Review, Naugatuck River Review, and The Tishman Review, and has received fellowships from Aspen Summer Words, The Frost Place, and Key West Literary Seminars. His work was anthologized in Pan’s Ex: Queer Sex Poetry (Qommunicate, 2019). His website is AnthonyWriter.com.

Recent Posts

See All

"Mavis and Bruce" by Angela Townsend

Bruce and Mavis, Mavis and Bruce. They blow through my hair like the Holy Spirit. Our double helixes have never danced, but they are braided into my lanyard. We are some sort of three-stranded cord. T

"Existing As Glass" by Aarron Sholar

It was nearly 7pm. I stood at the drop-off counter at the pharmacy as I waited for help from the man behind the counter. People walked all around me, shopping carts in grip and filled with dozens of i

Two poems by Mckendy Fils-Aimé

sipèstisyon If people say your child is beautiful, your child will become ugly. ok, i confess. once, i said fuck you to danny perkins on the last day of kindergarten after a miserable year of being pu

Comments


bottom of page