and he has no trouble doing so because he is a trained actor and in Spring Awakening he did it on stage five nights a week. Johnathan Groff makes himself straight through sheer will power and anal Kegels. His shining ass in the camera lens is art in action. His fucking is pretend only because he lets us know it is. Johnathan Groff eats all of us out at once when he slides down between her skirt and skin. Johnathan Groff fucks us all and you can’t help but stare at the scar on his right pec and wonder how he got it and you want to ask him so badly that in your lust and frustration you manifest yourself on screen and take every inch of him just so you can play out the post-coital scene. Not that the sex is a consolation prize. Johnathan Groff fucks your mother and your sister and you thank him for it because he played a small but titular role in Taking Woodstock. You start going by the name Woodstock. You want to be taken by the piece of moving light named Johnathan Groff and have light-being babies. “Forge me!” you scream and Johnathan Groff stops the scene and goes up to whisper into the director’s ear. The director calls over the lowest paid writer and tells them to tell the other writers that Johnathan Groff has an idea for the show. Johnathan Groff has an idea for the show! Johnathan Groff creates heaven and Earth and lays them gently on his panting stomach. You run the ridges of your fingerprints down the mesa of his chest scar and say, “I can forgive you for playing Jesse on Glee but I can’t forgive you for the misery of existence!” 

Alex Vigue is a queer poet and storyteller from Ridgefield, Washington. He has a degree in creative writing from Western Washington University and has been published in Vinyl, Maudlin House, and Lockjaw Magazine. His debut chapbook “The Myth of Man” was a finalist for the Floating Bridge Press chapbook competition. He works as a substitute teacher and retail worker all while impressing the importance of poetry on people of all ages.