"Body Counts" by William Ward Butler
Body Counts
Who among us hasn’t been asked for their number— when someone asks, how many people have you slept with, what counts? How does one count the ways their lives have intertwined with yours? One man told me he would’ve told Gore Vidal about me. One man read me an Olga Broumas poem when we were done. One man invited me to his bathtub, view of the Pacific— brought me champagne. One man bought me two drinks. One man bought me a desk. One novelist called me a perfect angel. One man wouldn’t stop calling until I blocked him. One man cried when we were finished. One man told me he visited the AIDS wards in San Francisco, how visitors were required to dip their hands in bowls of lemon juice to find the cuts. Previously published in fourteen poems
Audio: William Ward Butler reads “Body Counts”
Photo Credit: Nicholas Nichols
William Ward Butler is the poet laureate of Los Gatos, California. His recent poems have appeared or are forthcoming in the Academy of American Poets Poem-a-Day, Bennington Review, Five Points, Hunger Mountain, RHINO, and other journals. He is the co-creator of Frozen Sea, an online poetry journal publishing exceptional work from early-career poets in a mobile-friendly format. You can find him online at: williamwardbutler.com