Tag: john compton

come to me by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 1 Comment

come to me

there are certain things
that remind you—
their face cloned in every face.

the curvature of light glistens.
sensing the ripple: a wave
crashes into the eyelash.

your emotions begin to unravel;
there is a nakedness underneath
i cannot hide.

i try to scratch his name off stone.
why is he there?
why is he there?

he left as quickly as a dream—
a bombing, all at once:
i cannot comprehend a half empty bed.

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet. he lives in a nonexisting town in kentucky which still holds its name, with his husband josh, and their dogs, cats, & mice. his latest books are: my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); & house as a cemetery published with Rebel Satori Press (march 2026).

widow by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 1 Comment

widow

she danced
so ferally

the twirl
ripped

a boy
from her

skin—
a stork

flung
from his mouth.

she reached out
but both were gone.

the flowers
cut themselves

& arranged
for a eulogy.

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet who is the author of 20 books/chapbooks, who lives in kentucky with his husband josh and their dogs and cats, and mice. his latest full length book is “my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store” published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); his new full length book “house as a cemetery” published with Rebel Satori Press (march 2026) & is nominated for the national book award.

Two Poems by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

how we speak

sitting silent in the stillness of birds—
i break the dead air with a clap

& they become
a disorder of wings.

their dense bodies
bound towards the sky
like an upsurge of dust.

they don’t understand
that in their distress
carries a bliss.

*

hunting season

the bullet drums
through the house
startling us

as if it were the dog’s bark
at 3 a.m. at an opossum
wandering onto the porch

to eat the remainder
of cat food.
we run like a group

of spooked deer
into the field
of locked doors.

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet who is the author of 20 books/chapbooks, who lives in kentucky with his husband josh and their dogs and cats, and mice. his latest full length book is “my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store” published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); his new full length book “house as a cemetery” published with Rebel Satori Press (march 2026) & is nominated for the national book award.

ONE ART’s Most-Read Poets of 2025

~ ONE ART ~ 1 Comment

ONE ART’s Most-Read Poets of 2025

  1. Kai Coggin
  2. Alison Luterman
  3. Donna Hilbert
  4. Betsy Mars
  5. John Amen
  6. Susan Vespoli
  7. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
  8. Tina Em
  9. Kim Addonizio
  10. Molly Fisk
  11. Joseph Fasano
  12. Terri Kirby Erickson
  13. Robbi Nester
  14. James Crews
  15. Abby E. Murray
  16. Allison Blevins
  17. Erin Murphy
  18. john compton
  19. Dana Henry Martin
  20. Alison Hurwitz
  21. Moudi Sbeity
  22. Dick Westheimer
  23. James Feichthaler
  24. Karen Paul Holmes
  25. Naomi Shihab Nye

Note: For poets who published multiple times in ONE ART, in 2025, we are linking to the most-read curated work.

Two Poems by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ Leave a comment

side effects on insomnia

my dying
is a house

being unbuilt
—the frames are removed

before the roof.
the structure

collapses
under the weight

—i lie in bed
& watch the clock:

how many hours
to deconstruct

a body

*

side effects to eating

—i float
through the sky

until every pore
releases lightening

prayers
were never processed

no one set up
the answering machine

i won’t figure out
how to process the death

i requested

please sign this nda
—do not attach a poem

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet who lives in kentucky with his husband josh and their dogs, cats and mice. his latest full length book is “my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store” published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); his latest chapbook is “melancholy arcadia” published with Harbor Editions (april 2024). you can find his books, some poems and other things here: https://linktr.ee/poetjohncompton

untitled by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 3 Comments

untitled

the vulture eats the deer;
the head is already gone.

the red beak & black wings
flash by my peripheral.

it swoops around in a circle—
a death kite:

wearing intestines like a medallion—
blood binding them to its chest.

it perches on my shoulders
& imbeds talons

to make us a singular objective;
to give me knowledge;

to teach me how to eat
the rot from this world;

to assist
in cleansing the decay.

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet who lives in kentucky with his husband josh and their dogs, cats and mice. his latest full length book is “my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store” published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); his latest chapbook is “melancholy arcadia” published with Harbor Editions (april 2024). you can find his books, some poems and other things here: https://linktr.ee/poetjohncompton

Two Poems by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

untitled

our house is claustrophobic: a catastrophe;
a large grave, with two dead husbands—

no family visits. no stranger enters.
the entrance is sealed off;

has been for years.
the outer door knob

is missing—
we’ve forgotten what it looked like.

even the mice come and die.
their bodies at the walls

chewing through plaster
trying to dig out their escape.

the front of the house is a thief.
it reflects a home, but faintly.

the blue vinyl is sunbleached;
windows are covered with plastic:

not even the birds
have the allowance to look in.

the gnats scurrying around the light
eventually falling to become winged corpses.

everything died in this house,
everything:

the dogs; the cats;
the lady who lived here last.

*

untitled

this is what you offer

your upturned palm
that wears a wound
that holds a seed
planted there
in the meat and bone

roots already growing
snaking to your veins

this is your method to convince me

the apocalypse
is not coiled on your tongue

and one year
i will take
that thing that grows

*

john compton (b. 1987) is a gay poet who lives in kentucky with his husband josh and their dogs and cats. his latest full length book is “my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store” published with Flowersong Press (dec 2024); his latest chapbook is “melancholy arcadia” published with Harbor Editions (april 2024). you can find his books, some poems and other things here: https://linktr.ee/poetjohncompton

ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2024

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

ONE ART’s Top 25 Most-Read Poets of 2024

  1. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
  2. Betsy Mars
  3. Donna Hilbert
  4. Abby E. Murray
  5. Robbi Nester
  6. Julie Weiss
  7. john compton
  8. Tina Barry
  9. Timothy Green
  10. Kim Addonizio
  11. Andrea Potos
  12. Kari Gunter-Seymour
  13. Callie Little
  14. Alison Luterman
  15. Robin Wright
  16. Sally Nacker
  17. Trish Hopkinson
  18. Christina Kallery
  19. Vicki Boyd
  20. Terri Kirby Erickson
  21. Susan Vespoli
  22. Bonnie Proudfoot
  23. Scott Ferry & Leilani Ferry
  24. Martha Silano
  25. Joan Mazza

Note: Some poets were published multiple times in ONE ART in 2024. Links are to each poet’s most-read poem(s) of the year.

my body as youth by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 1 Comment

my body as youth

my hair is thinning. my eyes depend
on lenses. my noise is feeble.
my ears no longer understand sound.
my lips have shriveled, small & weak.
my mouth is still scared
to eat. my neck has almost given up
its strength. my shoulders lug around dead weight.
my elbows burn like a gas stove.
my wrists tunnel into my hands. my fingers are cracked
at each bend. my heart
is wrapped in onion. my lungs have been beaten
beyond repair. my stomach is no more a victim
than the tongue itself. my liver has always been
a failure. my kidneys compete like strangers.
my intestines are knotted with agony.
my bladder has no hold, lets it all go.
my colon stores without payment.
my penis is slack. my ass sags.
my hips are on the verge of displacement.
my thighs still contain proof of stretched skin.
my knees are crippled as are my ankles.
my feet are islands sinking. my toes are their navigator.

*

john compton (he/him) is a gay poet who lives with his husband josh and their dogs and cats. his latest book: my husband holds my hand because i may drift away & be lost forever in the vortex of a crowded store (Flowersong Press; dec 2024) and latest chapbook: melancholy arcadia (Harbor Editions; april 2024).

walking bishop back to moonlight by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ Leave a comment

walking bishop back to moonlight

i foreclosed on two homes & a lover

then found this man
with thick brown hair, scalp buried
beneath a jungle—

with a mind, black as a night full of rain.

filled with ghosts, from east & west,
he animated & elevated
into a manic suitor
which called       to me      like a siren’s mouth.

we made temptation into a game:
our bodies confided,
knowing we already knew
how to play,

though by the end
forgetting
the other’s name:

i let him leave a mystery.

*

john compton (he/him) is a gay poet who lives with his husband josh and their dogs and cats. he is the poet with 14 published chapbooks/books, with the latest book: the castration of a minor god (Ghost City Press; december 2022) and next chapbook: melancholy arcadia (Harbor Editions; april 2024)

winter coat & a half glimpse of the world by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 3 Comments

winter coat & a half glimpse of the world

fingers crackle like a frigid bough.
an ice blossom sprouts.

summer is my grandmother’s voice
asking if i’d like a bowl of chili.

*

john compton (he/him) is a gay poet who lives with his husband josh and their dogs and cats. he is the poet with 14 published chapbooks/books, with the latest book: the castration of a minor god (Ghost City Press; december 2022) and next chapbook: melancholy arcadia (Harbor Editions; may 2024)

two poems by john compton

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

mary

your mouth is my grandmother’s.
now she speaks with her dead voice
from your vocal cords.

the sharp vowels try to pin my conscience—
strong consonants devalue my power;
the words themselves leak resin.

wife & children escape her teeth
trying to catch me. she cannot understand
i don’t want either,

that i am not gay because i choose to be
but simply: i am.
her pyramid scheme of love

is ancient.
she drives to me with prayer.
i turn her away with heat.

*

rowland

if my father had not sewn his palms
to my mother’s womb,
i would have never known his existence.

his voice like vinyl, thick & scratched:
barely audible through the skin—
if he had known my ears worked

maybe his voice would have been louder
& he wouldn’t have been afraid to say
i love you.

*

john compton (b. 1987) is gay poet who lives in kentucky. he lives in a tiny town, with his husband josh and their 3 dogs and 2 cats. he has published 2 books and 5 chapbooks published and forthcoming: trainride elsewhere (august 2016) from Pressed Wafer/tba; stranger in the attic of cloud (tba) from dead man’s press ink; that moan like a saxophone (december 2016) from kindle; ampersand (march 2018) from Plan B Press; a child growing wild inside the mothering womb (june 2020) from ghost city press; i saw god cooking children / paint their bones (oct 2020) from blood pudding press; to wash all the pretty things off my skin (sept 2021) from ethel zine & micro-press. he has been published in numerous magazines and anthologies. he has 2 pushcart nominations.