Joe Nasta is a queer writer and mariner who splits zir time between New York, Seattle, and the Ocean. Joe is one half of the art and poetry collective Eat Yr Manhood and runs a communal studio at the Sun and Moon House in Beacon Hill, Seattle. Zir work has been published in The Rumpus, Yes Poetry, Pidgeonholes, and others. Ze co-curates a zine of unconventional art and writing at stonepacificzine.com and serves as prose reader for The Adroit Journal. Find Joe on Instagram and Twitter @roflcoptermcgee and at joenasta.com.
1 essay
by Joe Nasta
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Neon
Lol I hate Times Square at night but I’ll take you. Welcome to New York. It’s like you’ve never seen a building before. It’s like you’ve never been so artificial. Okay, I’ll smile and wink. Blue
or Pink? I was arrogant when I was younger and dumb, too. I visited cities like
Boston & Honolulu looking up, saying this isn’t a real city, the light comes
from the sun. Yellow or Red? Okay, look at me now. Of course I’ll take a
photograph with you as long as you tag me. I look so good. The answer is always
Orange. I know you’re in the closet but yr hard for the Naked Cowboy. Will you kiss
me on the Toys R Us ferris wheel? Oh wait, it’s gone now like all the peep
shows. Nothing’s left but who even cares? I will take my pants off. Do you remember
the Desnudas? Do you know the H&M Building is actually empty? Haha my open mouth and
eyes. The ESPN Sportscenter. American Girl Dollstore tea party. Porn theaters. Bike lanes
and Pedestrian Plazas. Let’s spend all our money on shitty clothes at the Forever 21. What do
my ads look like to you and will you buy me? I’d be a porn star if I wasn’t actually sex
repulsed. Look at my lips. Go buy me a beer, I don’t have my fake ID.