Poem by August Chaffin
When I asked the Angel to make breakfast with me, He placed his own wing into the frying pan & plucked off all the glorious feathers. I’d never tasted an Angel, but it set my mouth on fire, & I drooled into His hands. He touched me like He was trying to repair a leaky faucet. But He had none of the tools. & when we stared into the pool, the endless saliva in His palms, I think we saw Eden. & He was just as startled as I was.
About August Chaffin
August Chaffin (he/him/his) is a trans poet local to the Twin Cities area. His short stories have won local fiction contests, and his musical compositions have been featured in several Minneapolis stage productions. He is an undergraduate student at the University of Minnesota/Guthrie BFA Actor Training Program.