Two Poems
by J.D. Isip
Elegy for Frank-N-Furter
Whatever happened to…
Can you feel it, baby?
Whatever happened to…
Yeah, I can, too
Whatever happened to Marky Mark
five stories high on 43rd and Broadway?
As Calvin Klein clung to his thighs,
I started to cry
Cause I wanted to cling the same way…
C’mon, swing it
Give yourself over
De-Medusa: The Singers
Jordan Knight, 1989 poster, white shirt barely
over a shoulder, eyes into the camera
into the bedroom of a boy who couldn’t
look away, to Tommy Paige, to Nick Lachey
Come, c’mon, swing it
To absolute pleasure
De-Medusa: The Swimmers
Watched Greg Louganis twist in midair, hit
the surface, his blood in the water, his arms and legs
stretch into the shape of Matt Biondi who will crest
as a blonde, Ryan Lochte, just seven hours old
It’s such a good vibration
Swim the warm waters
De-Medusa: The Actors
Ship me Cap & Bucky or the talented Matt/Tom,
who wanted (to be) Jude/Dickie to want him,
Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan, Jake/Jack can’t quit
Heath/Ennis up on Brokeback, a tent and a body
It’s such a sweet sensation
Of sins of the flesh
De-Medusa: The Politicians
There’s a little flagellation in this routine,
Aaron Schock, bare chest, Paul Ryan, fully clothed
(in Men’s Health, the tease), so you search for the one
shirtless shot, a body, a Kennedy, military Mayor Pete
It’s such a good vibration
Erotic nightmares
De-Medusa: Pygmalion//Pretty Woman
Yes, you’re Julia Roberts at the piano. A whore
with a heart of gold, Gere the American Gigolo,
or King David dancing, sweat on his brow, mad,
jubilant, arms, chest, thighs, thighs, a body—
It’s such a sweet sensation
And sensual daydreams
Can you feel it, baby?
Can’t you just
(I wish I knew how to quit you)
Can’t you just
Yeah, I can, too.
The Optimist
as though exhaustive cataloging might explain, somehow,
what it means that I am from here
Andrew Collard, “Future Ruins”
There’s this plaque at the entrance of Disneyland
back in 1955, Walt Disney read the practiced words
to the largest television audience at the time, “Here
age relives fond memories of the past—”
I used to work the trains. Practiced crying out, “All aboard!”
over and over. Never tired of the grand circle tour.
I was a tour guide, too. Practiced the spiel, “Welcome
to Walt Disney’s original Magic Kingdom.”
People cried at the end of the tours. Not always, but often
enough for me to anticipate the tears.
“Here youth may savor the challenge and promise
of the future—” Sometimes, you’d think the worst a man
could do in this small world is to be some sort of optimist.
Better to focus on climate change or hell.
My first job at Disneyland, the one I couldn’t accept
because I didn’t have a ride, I was going to be Aladdin.
I once wanted to be a dancer. I went to the audition
and I couldn’t. But, back then, I could pass for a prince.
They had me get onto the elephant float, practice waving.
I’ve never stopped imagining people loving me.
“With the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration—”
It feels like this tour is never ending. Station after station
I call out, but more disembark than climb aboard. Sometimes
I practice crying. Sometimes, I’m on an elephant, flying.
J.D. Isip is the winner of the 2026 Louise Bogan Award for his collection, What Wonder (Trio House Press, 2027), and he is the editor for the upcoming anthology, The American Pop Culture Almanac: Daily Readings of Poetry & Prose (Moon Tide Press, 2027). His full-length collections include Reluctant Prophets (Moon Tide Press, 2025), Kissing the Wound (Moon Tide Press, 2023), and Pocketing Feathers (Sadie Girl Press, 2015). A native of Southern California, J.D. now teaches in South Texas where he lives with his dogs, Ivy and Bucky. His perfect date has been and always will be at Disneyland with someone who can keep up.
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