SOUTHERN HUMANITIES REVIEW
  • HOME
    • EVENTS
    • Pushcart Prize Nominees
    • RESULTS: Auburn Witness Poetry Prize Honoring Jake Adam York 2022
    • RESULTS: Editors Chapbook Prize for Fiction 2021
  • CURRENT ISSUE
    • ONLINE FEATURES
    • REVIEWS
    • STORE
  • ARCHIVES
    • The 1960s
    • The 2010s
    • The 2020s
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submit
    • Auburn Witness Poetry Prize
  • ABOUT
  • HOME
    • EVENTS
    • Pushcart Prize Nominees
    • RESULTS: Auburn Witness Poetry Prize Honoring Jake Adam York 2022
    • RESULTS: Editors Chapbook Prize for Fiction 2021
  • CURRENT ISSUE
    • ONLINE FEATURES
    • REVIEWS
    • STORE
  • ARCHIVES
    • The 1960s
    • The 2010s
    • The 2020s
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submit
    • Auburn Witness Poetry Prize
  • ABOUT
Search by typing & pressing enter

YOUR CART

ONLINE FEATURE

The Night I Turned Down a Tuscaloosa Threesome Because I Know My Worth

By Jason McCall

Alabama Poets



Vertical Divider
A second touch can mean anything
but coincidence, and this has to be
 
the fourth time she’s run
her hand up my forearm and asked about the girlfriends
 
I don’t have. She asked how
that could be and reminded me
 
of how she used to be curious
about black boys in school. Something
 
about contrast. Pretzels and chocolate.
Salty and sweet. She’s moved on
 
to asking about the boys
I might be hiding somewhere. I might
 
have denied it three or four times before she admitted
that she was just teasing because she loved
 
the way my mouth shaped the word “no.” I’m shaking
my head, but I’m not moving
 
her hand away from my forearm. I’m still
here dodging the glint in her eyes because I want to
 
know how much she’s willing to give up
to have me knock on the door
 
of her blood slick fantasy. I’m pretending
I don’t hear her husband behind us
 
asking the same questions to a group of girls giggling
nervously into their cups.
 
I’m pretending this night hasn’t ended
before with my body hollowed out and hung
 
as tribute to Honor or Boredom or All
Deliberate Speed. It’s too much
 
of a mystery now. I want to know how much
she’s willing to pay for a body
 
I planned on giving away
to the earth two months ago.
 
I’m waiting for a number
on the bottom of a napkin. I’m waiting to be offended
 
because I want to imagine
myself next to all the other flesh of my family
 
who’ve been bought in this state.
A valuable servant still has value,
 
and I won’t ruin my family name by leaving with her
before I know that she knows that I came
 
from good stock. Good enough for the richest
man in Montgomery to hide a child in us.
 
Good enough for the governor
to give a speech at my father’s retirement.
 
Good enough to be a dream
neither one of us can afford.


JASON MCCALL holds an MFA from the University of Miami. His collections include Two-Face God; Dear Hero, (winner of the 2012 Marsh Hawk Press Poetry Prize); Silver; I Can Explain; and Mother, Less Child (co-winner of the 2013 Paper Nautilus Vella Chapbook Prize). He and P.J. Williams are the editors of It Was Written: Poetry Inspired by Hip-Hop. He is an Alabama native, and he currently teaches at the University of North Alabama.


Picture
Picture
MORE FROM THIS FEATURE:


“A Poem About the Body”
By ASHLEY JONES


“Bestiary of Bad Kisses”
By ASHLEY JONES


“Salt Epistemologies”
By JANET MCADAMS

“_____ and the Elders”
By JANET MCADAMS


“My Great-great-great-great Grandfather Was a Railroad Man Who Owned my Great-great-great-great Grandmother and Shares My Birthday”
By JASON MCCALL

“The Night I Turned Down a Tuscaloosa Threesome Because I Know My Worth”
By JASON MCCALL


CURRENT ISSUE
SUBMIT
EVENTS
ARCHIVES
STORE

Vertical Divider

CONTACT
SOUTHERN HUMANITIES REVIEW
9088 HALEY CENTER
AUBURN UNIVERSITY
AUBURN, AL 36849

shr@auburn.edu
334.844.9088

Vertical Divider
Official trademark of Auburn University

DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH
COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS