I am, as always, humbled and grateful to have them out in the world. Many thanks to my kind editors, and to my teacher Marie Howe for her guidance and insight into both poems.

I was first introduced to Brenda Shaughnessy’s work in a high school poetry workshop, when my teacher brought in her much beloved poem “I’m Over the Moon” for our class to discuss. As teenage students of poetry are wont to do, my classmates and I were more concerned with articulating our feelings than anything else, and I think our instructor hoped the poem—the first from her James Laughlin Award-winning second book, Human Dark with Sugar—might get us thinking more critically about the role of music and metaphor in articulating our precious feelings. To call the moment a pivotal one for me is vast understatement: my understanding of the possibility of poetry was forever broadened, and “I’m Over the Moon” remains one of my favorite poems.

But I tell you this now not to stress her great personal influence on me, but because it highlights what makes Shaughnessy’s work so important in the landscape of contemporary poetry—to put it plainly, that she is so good at so many things. A wickedly funny poet, to be sure, she can also write into and out of profound sadness without hiding behind the curtain of irony; likewise, she’s a gifted linguist, producing some of the finest wordplay in poetry today—but without ever compromising clarity or emotional resonance.

In the enthusiastically positive reviews of her most recent book, Our Andromeda, much has been made of the candor and personal nature of the poems. And rightfully so—the poems are fearless, unapologetic and complicated. I’m confident the title poem, chronicling the birth of her son, will join the canon of great long poems about parenthood, alongside W.D. Snodgrass’s “Heart’s Needle” and Anne Sexton’s “The Double Image.” But the bravery of her self-exposure should not distract from the true triumph of this poem and this book—that she has taken the joys, sorrows and trials of human experience and, through an inventive mastery of language and a wild act of imagination, transmogrified them into great art. The “Andromeda” she dreams up, a distant galaxy that is a double of our own (but better), is a deeply complex conceptual device that manifests throughout the book. In poem after poem she concerns herself with doubles, duality, and the parallel realities arising out of the twists of chance and fate.

• Sasha Debevec-McKenney writing on the upside of divorce.
• A poem by Erin M. Bertram over at Lambda Literary Review.
• This beautiful lyric essay on truth and poetry (among other things) by Danniel Schoonebeek for The American Reader.
• In Next Magazine, my piece on Aaron Smith’s new book Appetite, as well as my Top 10 Gay Books of 2012.
• Floating Wolf Quarterly’s two most recent digital chapbooks: Rebecca Hazelton’s Tender Trapper and Dorothea Lasky’s Thing.
• Four terrific epigrams by James Yeh on Wonder’s tumblr.
• John Deming’s interview with D.A. Powell at Coldfront.
• I was very excited to have a poem up at The Awl just before Christmas. Its dependably strong Poetry Section, edited by Mark Bibbins, has also featured poems by two other NYU MFA students in recent months: an excerpt from Mike Lala’s Portraits of the Artists as Their Own Subjects and “Matanuska” by Christine Larusso.
• Finally, please watch this new PacoVolume music video for his song “Olaf & Paul.” Written/directed by Jack Antoine Charlot and co-starring Adrien Brody, it’s tender, funny and tragic. Also, Adrien Brody and PacoVolume make out.

Photo of me at sixteen, after the jump…

My piece for Next Magazine on Lonely Christopher and his new chapbook Crush Dream, which is terrific, and which you should go order from Radioactive Moat (a BARGAIN at $6, including shipping). UPDATE: My copy arrived in the mail today–check out this gorgeous hand-painted cover: 

Also for Next, I wrote a preview of my most anticipated books coming out this fall. It’s a good season for gay lit.

Over at Lambda Literary Review, we’ve got a slew of great poets who’ve recently been featured in the Poetry Spotlight, including Stephen Zerance (“Anne Sexton’s Last Drink” and “Lindsay Lohan”), P. Elan (“What I Will Get), Nick Comilla (“Montreal Sestina” and “Pure Form”), and Chris Emslie (“Blanks”).

Emslie also happens to be an associate editor for ILK journal, which I think is a great web publication, and which ran a gut-punching poem by Chelsea Whitton called “My Lover’s Wife” in its third issue. I read it months ago and am still not over it. Go read it (now!).

Poet extraordinaire Melissa Broder wrote a splendid review of Sophia Le Fraga’s I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE INTERNET for HTMLGIANT, which then got picked up by the Poetry Foundation’s blog Harriet. O happy day!

And everybody in NYC should go to the release party at the Rubin Museum for Allen Ginsberg’s Holy Soul Jelly Roll, which I wrote about for LLR here.

MORE SOON. xx

For more great gay writing, check out the latest Poetry Spotlight over at Lambda Literary Review featuring two poems by D. Gilson, one of my favorite up-and-coming gay poets.

And for EVEN MORE…keep your breath bated for the release of Sophia Le Fraga’s new chapbook I Don’t Want Anything To Do With The Internet. (Keep This Bag Away From Children) on August 17. Read my review for LLR here.

I wish my hair looked better.

In celebration of her birthday (this past Monday), Pride Week, and the summer of 2012,  Sophia will be writing poems for anyone who emails her at slefraga@gmail.com or tweets @badideasophia. She’ll then compile these poems in an upcoming _________________________________________________+chapbook. Get on it, kids!

Have a sense of humor. If you can’t handle the “who’s your daddy?” jokes your friends are (inevitably) going to make, you probably have no business being in a relationship with someone twice your age in the first place. So rather than bracing yourself against the barrage of cradle-robbing and gold-digging jokes that are bound to come your way, just embrace your new role as a child-bride and make sure people are laughing with you, not at you.

Kink is cool! While my current relationship wasn’t my initiation into role play, it was the first time I realized adventurous sex and loving kindness aren’t mutually exclusive. So go ahead, let him be the pervy coach! Be the jailbait slut cruising in the bookstore! Have sex in (and/or with) a roomful of men! You don’t have to feel dirty afterwards—instead you can cuddle.

It’s okay to benefit from his experience. No, I’m not talking about money (mostly). Anyone who’s ever been on the younger end of an intergenerational romance knows the self-doubt that comes along with it. In the past year, I’ve frequently felt that I don’t have a lot to offer; sure, I’m pretty smart and accomplished for a 22-year-old, but that’s a daunting qualifier. It’s important to remember that being young isn’t a flaw. Keep working hard, and don’t be afraid to enjoy the advantages his age provides (parties you never would have ended up at otherwise, conversations with writers you grew up reading, etc.). He’s had a lot more time than you to do cool things and meet cool people. Now you’re one of them.

Your dad might get along with him after all. Once you get over the initial strangeness of seeing the two men you’ve ever called daddy at the same table, you might be surprised at how much your Republican father and radical leftist lover have to talk about (and with no hostility, to boot)!

Suburban Girl, starring Alex Baldwin and Sarah Michelle Gellar. This uncelebrated 2007 romantic comedy, about junior editor Sarah Michelle Gellar’s relationship with publishing honcho Baldwin, may be the best/worst May-December movie of all time. Trouble in paradise? Watch Suburban Girl and weep without shame.

Don’t forget how young you are. I know how easy it is to get swept up in the pleasure and security of being with someone whose life has a definite shape, particularly when your own feels constantly in flux. But that’s exactly why it’s so important to remind yourself what 22 should feel like: scary as hell. Lean into that uncertainty; it’s an important part of life. Don’t be so afraid of making the occasional bad decision. Stay out too late. Sleep in too late. Forgive yourself. And don’t abandon the friends trapped in the same post-collegiate limbo as you. They’re important, too.