Locker Room Prayer
I.
head bowed,
rows of lockers
to my right
i want no
i need to be
in prayer
clenched
fingers laced
God on my mind
please, i need to
change
before it’s too late
i shuffle past
the boys changing
flashes of flesh
i don’t want to see.
the good Catholic boy
not thinking of
stubbled jawlines,
dark hair. asking,
if you can move
um, i need to
get to my locker before—
before someone sees me seeing.
II.
holding my breath
to my locker,
heated, nervous,
restless, my
crush of
six weeks
half-naked
& behind me.
i shouldn’t be
so close to him
it’s a violation
but i can’t stop
i cross
my forehead
my chest & shoulders
eyes darting through the
boys around me. only
more of this half-lying
guilt, always before
God, i know
thinking about this—
it’s wrong
and yet i’m still—
believing in Him.
III.
no one notices me
as i spin
until, finally:
the realization that
i can’t change
as i shuck off my shoes,
the lock of the my locker
it clicks open. it hits me—
it’s really empty, no
i can’t be like the other boys.
M.J. Young is a writer and MFA student at Florida International University, where he is the poetry editor of Gulf Stream Magazine. His poetry can be found or is forthcoming in The Penn Review, One Art, Vagabond City Lit, and elsewhere. In his free time he enjoys listening to Philip Glass and exploring bookstores. He can be found on Instagram @mjyoungwrites.
