Three Poems by Mack Rogers

call of the void

after Jericho Brown

I cross the bridge with my hand in his.

It makes it easier to not jump.

The idea is easy but I do not want to jump.

I read that that is from anxiety sensitivity.

I read because of my anxiety sensitivity.

It is like searching for a third.

I want him more as we search for a third.

They are not worth sharing with him.

It’s not worth it to share him,

we are here because of each other.

These gestures are how we hear each other.

Being together makes life worthy.

He makes me worthy.

I cross the bridge with my hand in his.


rainbow eggs in plain sight

here           outside

we hear    outside

queer    outside

with chairs

        sinking   into

        the dirt



the neighbor


to know if



we celebrate


out here

out queer

w/ leftover

quiche &


for Jesus

nice hoodie

I say          it looks like two queers

falling slowly.

Easter eggs into the earth.

listen closely for the

whatever you’re

searching for. sound of


find it here pouring into glass


Oreoz (hybrid strain)


Question: You know that moment after you’ve had some chocolate1 when you’re sure you’ve had too much chocolate2 and then constantly convince yourself that no in fact it was the perfect amount of chocolate3?

 Answer: I used to think I was the perfect amount of chocolate4.






1An edible.
2Also an edible.
3Pretending to have not heard of W.E.B. Du Bois and letting a white friend explain The Souls of Black Folk to you.
4A Black Lives Matter decal on your back windshield. A Black power bottom hoodie. Two full tattoo sleeves with color. Learning all the words to songs with nigga in the lyrics. Rapping them to your white friends. Your former Black hair stylist. An obsession with Beyoncé. A Danez Smith retweet. The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes in the back of your closet. A message to your only Black coworker. An Instagram story. A cry for help. A poem.

Mack Rogers is a gay Black writer. He graduated from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville with a BA in creative writing. His work has appeared in Foglifter, Olney Magazine, and Susurrus and is forthcoming in A Great Gay Book (Abrams 2024), and Shenandoah. He has a blog of dream poetry and is currently a poetry reader at Split Lip Mag. He lives with his partner and their three cats in East Tennessee.