Fourth Sonnet Towards Honesty

Stephen Energia


A few friends beaming, another one bound,
and still I hide the story in the story:
how my best friend’s older brother Angel hit me
up from a cell’s calculated cold, messaged me

back many halogen burnt nights and I
let our fluttering bond dwindle, let years
mushroom between us when I had my choice
of time. How I’ve smiled at men with badges

leering from their chest, spoke sweet. How I swept
down my throat any doubts, whited my way on
through. That’s dishonest: I had no doubt to
bury. You learn what you wear. I wore

white well. I ate my cake, closed my windows
as eager badges haunted my neighbors.

Stephen Energia Gifford-Bell is a white Latinx nerd. He was born in Quito, raised in Sarasota and Champaign, and became in Swannanoa. He’s settled in his boo’s home in Junín de los Andes. His poems have appeared in HAD, DEAR Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. Find him on Twitter @EnergiaStephen and instagram @i_equal_mc_squared

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Wasteland Review is searching for raw, evocative writing. Poems with grit and soul. Send your best to wastelandlitmag@gmail.com

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