by Gustavo Adolfo Aybar
I undress, lie on exam table.
Pants down; penis exposed. Today
the male doctor numbs, then cuts
my scrotum. Removes
all hopes for more kids;
my betrayal
bruises.
Swells.
Gustavo Adolfo Aybar is a Dominican born poet, writer, translator, father, and mentor. He holds an MA in Romance Languages and Literature and is a Cave Canem fellow. He’s currently completing his first illustrated kids book, and his second full-length (hybrid) poetry collection, revealing his training as a law enforcement officer. Some of Aybar’s recent work can be found in Spanglish-Voces, Acentos Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, The Rupture, among other online journals and in-print publications.
