“He” like Howl & also like howling.
“He” like how water rests on an upper lip.
“He” like pubic bone jutting against rope.
“He” like Harold Stylish.
“He” like Maybelline over five o’ clock shadow.
“He” like Peter’s shadow but also like Wendy Darling (if I’m honest.)
“He” like the way you say my name – drip, drip, dripping.
“He” like if Oscar Wilde had T-rage.
“He” like Franz Kafka for that matter too.
“He” like I won’t be jumped for all of my unseen scars.
“He” like a goodbye that isn’t really a goodbye.
“He” like I could finally wake up next to my grief & tell it to pack its bags.
“He” like anyone OTHER than my father.
“He” like it means anything to anyone & like they would listen anyway.
“He” like my mother forgets every time I speak & her daughter’s voice breaks through.
“He” like stubble growing back one day after a shave.
“He” like a lesser god but a greater human.
“He” like venom, like acid, like tongues & tongues & tongues.
“He” like the face everyone makes when you tell them “I’m a poet.”
“He” like there’s any other way to be alive.
“He” like in horseshoes & hand-grenades, where “almost” actually counts.
“He” like “they” but add cock & balls (waxed).
“He” like big dresses & the parties we would wear them to.
“He” like Taako, you know, from TV!
“He” like “let me be good for you baby, I swear I can be so good for you!”
“He” like how sometimes I don’t mind being called a bonus-hole-boy.
“He” like choking on broken glass.
“He” like my shirts finally fitting my body.
“He” like he/him/his.


Gabriel Noel is a trans and queer poet based out of Salem, Massachusetts. He works as a librarian and in his free time, Gabriel can be found writing, working on digital art, or singing karaoke (badly.) To follow his work you can find Gabriel on Instagram.