Ars Poetica
Conrad Majors
God my feet ache in these boots. Been walking all day in New York. Stayed up late again. All my friends were on cocaine but I’m still sober. Danced all night to Spanish goth music at a new club. The red lights grew crazy in our eyes. Electro snare heart beats and Spanish screams. His teeth were stained amber on the dance floor. Walked 45 minutes this morning to buy a 10 dollar CD. Didn’t bring a change of clothes. Slept in my jeans. Not enough coffee. No toothpaste. Grabbed a Donald Goines book off the outside dollar rack of a used bookstore. Caught Nj transit back to Jersey. Gonna see her sing poetry all night. Poetry is raw. Poetry is lived. I like her a lot, but she might leave soon. On train bored. Think about holding her ribcage in my palm. Think more about last night. We laid in the middle of a modern art exhibition after the club. Crude red squares in empty spaces painted on canvases and childlike drawings of cats taped diagonally on the walls. He laid his head on my shoulder, and I thought about how wonderful and infinite life is at night. He talked about getting couples’ therapy with his boyfriend. Read the first chapter of the Donald Goines book. Young boys bash the big fat head of a security guard in 1970s LA. Think about how I feel like I’ve been all over but then I think about the West Coast and the Midwest and how far away they are and how huge America is and hope one day I get to see most of it. Off the train. Walk over to gas station. Don’t have enough money for coffee but the guy behind the counter lets me have it anyway. Wait for her out in the wind.
Conrad Majors has published poetry in several venues and graduated from Rutgers in 2025.