Episode 61: John Compton

Listen to poet, John Compton, read his poetry and discuss his journey into writing poetry, publishing, and connecting with industry folks!

http://yourartsygirlpodcast.com

https://www.facebook.com/josh.compton.12914

Bio: John Compton (formerly John Thompson) is a 33-year-old gay poet who lives in Kentucky. His poetry resides in his chest like many hearts & they bloom like vigorously infectious wild flowers. He has published 1 book and 5 chapbooks: "trainride elsewhere" (August 2016/TBA) from Pressed Wafer/Rouge Wolf Press; "that moan like a saxophone" (December 2016); Ampersand (March 2019) from Plan B Press; "a child growing wild inside the mothering womb" (June 2020) from Ghost City Press; "burning his matchstick fingers his hair went up like a wick" (Fall), From Dark Heart Press, "to wash all the pretty things off my skin" (end of 2021) from Ethel Zine & Micro-Press. Compton has been published in numerous magazines and anthologies.

John's Chapbook Cover - A Child Growing

https://ghostcitypress.com/2020-summer-series/a-child-growing-wild-inside-the-mothering-womb

ampersand poetry chapbook

https://www.planbpress.com/store/p56/ampersand_by_john_thompson.html

https://www.amazon.com/that-moan-like-saxophone-thompson-ebook/dp/B01NBP6JL3

winter poem

mouth open
letting snow cover my burial plot
of words

& fingers too cold to dig
the tongue out:
frozen corpse,

the stature of teeth chirping
a ruptured poem

we seeded him holy

you'll find him in a chair
sequenced

gay is vandalism

we used white rags &
smoke to purify him

to bleach the sin, to poach the black resin
from the heart-skin
to bring him
right
by rules of man

his arms & ankles tied
crosswise
the naked body a rosary
bead tucked in each wound

how we bury fish

motionless in my womb...
i remembered
my fish - i was eight.
it was floating belly up.

i tapped on my stomach
as a mother – a little girl
trying to tap her fish
from sleep.

i gave birth to a stillborn.
my father explained to me
how we bury fish: i heard the toilet flush
behind my sobbing.

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