Taylor Supplee
Wart-charming
The depression of his head had hardly left the sofa’s arm when the foxglove pressings, harboring hidden devils in pale papered bells, fell from the pages of an old album. We have a history of this. Everything that can makes a noise in the dark. Arrhythmic symptom, fever opens its eye in the palm, the lines there barely legible to the touch and pulsing. I would love you if— The chamberlain, ever over shoulder, boasting effective medicines and sentence, teases his small finger with a pithing needle.
Taylor Supplee is a gay poet from the Midwest who earned his MFA from Columbia University where he served as the first Lucie Brock-Broido Teaching Fellow. A finalist for the Greg Grummer Poetry Prize in 2020, and the 92Y Discovery Award in Poetry in 2019, his poems are forthcoming and have appeared in Baltimore Review, Carve, Foothill Poetry Journal, Hotel Amerika, Hunger Mountain, Image, The Moth, The Penn Review, phoebe, Quiddity, Rattle, SLAB, Thrush, and elsewhere. He lives in Kansas City. taylorsupplee.com