Sometimes I think, if I were an Aztec
I’d be just handsome enough to have
my heart cut out.
And if the British Middle Ages,
I’d be androgynous enough to
burn as a witch.
Today, if someone super-attractive
asked me to peel my own face off, I’d
absolutely do it.
I commit a murder every time I make eye contact.
If I had been Helen all the ships would
have sunk. Alexander: the pretty good.
Alexander: just fine.
Marie Antoinette – better minus head.
Keep the guillotine going and save me
for foot fetishists.
Sometimes I suspect that not even
the ‘bots that follow me on Instagram
think I’m good-looking.
I scroll through goop for tips on how to die.
Andrew Sutherland is a Queer writer and theatre practitioner working between Western Australia and Singapore. Theatre works include Poorly Drawn Shark, Unveiling: Gay Sex for Endtimes, and Chrysanthemum Gate. His poetry and prose can be found in various publications including Overland, Visible Ink, Lite Lit One, Suburban Review, Muse/A, and Bosie.
