queer poetry

A surreal watercolour painting of a black sky, red sea, and green creatures. Many planets seem to rise in the sky, and there appear to be gohsts and amoebas coming out of the sea.

Poem 1, 2, 3

Poems by Inky Lee.

I knew of an asian man. His body was small and he was going blind. He quit his office job and was training to become a masseur – to see with his hands while his eyes cease to see. He was a devout christian and was known to pray for many hours every day. People called him a holy man. One time, I went to his place to get a massage. After the massage, he prayed for me. As I was about to leave, he smirked and told me to never bring a black man home because that would make my mother go into a long fast.

A drawing of a boot, a series of mechanical objects, and scratchy lines. The edges of the paper are visible.

The future toddlers of my friends clamber over me and affectionately sprinkle grass onto my shoulders

I sit here- writing this while the sound checks for a festival in Victoria Park sound out. It is like 1, 2, 3- 3 ch’ ch’. I sit here writing this while my childhood best friend is preparing to play at this festival- I will be able to hear him from my window.