• Skip to main content
  • Skip to header right navigation
  • Skip to site footer

submissions are open

Shō Poetry Journal

Established in 2002, revived in 2023

  • Read a Poem
  • Listen
    • Shō Number Six
    • Shō Number Five
    • Shō Number Four
    • Shō Number Three
    • Pride Month Playlist #1 (2024)
    • Black History Month Playlist (2025)
    • Women’s History Month RoundUp 2025
    • Asian/Pacific American Heritage Month Roundup 2025
    • Pride Month Playlist #2 (2025)
  • Interviews
    • A Conversation with Arah Ko
    • A Conversation with Nathan Xavier Osorio
  • Buy
  • About
    • Mission Statement
    • Our Story
    • Masthead
    • Accolades
    • Nominations
    • Contact
  • Shō Family
    • Contributors
    • Contributors (by issue)
    • Cover Art
    • Books from Shō No. 3 Poets
  • Submit
    • Submissions
    • The Sita Martin Prize
    • The Shō Poetry Prize
    • Prize Winners
  • Donate
  • Cart

Symptoms of Ghosts

Aldo Amparán

Prefer to read this poem as a PDF? Click here (Opens in new tab).

“The main reason behind the gay orientation of some
men is that they are possessed by female ghosts.”
— Spiritual Science Research Foundation

A murmur
in my right wrist
tells me there’s something wrong

with the light, & the sound
of a finger snap
wakes my lover

every morning
at 3:46. Sometimes I speak
perfect English & know

it’s not my own voice.
Age 12, I kissed
my first man

in my sleep: the chapped lips
of a boy
from my secundaria

searching inside me
for what? I woke up
levitating

over the wet mattress.
My desire ignited sudden
little fires

& the little fires so many
questions. In a church,
far from home,

I asked a priest
what was wrong
with my heart.

My yellowed heart
a glitter bomb. My heart acid
wash. My penitence

a prayer I keep
unlearning
to become proud

of this desire.
I used to write
my colors in past

tense: I was redded.
I was blued. I was
violented. Often

misspelled
certain truths.
I was 12

& kept asking why
until the world said it:
I lacked a father

figure. I’d been touched
inappropriately by a man.
So, it must be true

what the world now says:
my desire: not my own,
but the woman

singing in my breastbone.
My lover awakens
to her song. He listens

to that disem-
bodied music in my body
& as he leans

in to taste
the bitterness of daylight
in my gums

I’m grateful
for our ghosts
replaying their soft

ballad at the back
of our throats.

AUDIO

Listen to Aldo Amparán read “Symptoms of Ghosts.”

About this poem: A few years ago, I stumbled upon an article in LGBTQ Nation titled “85% of gay people are possessed by ghosts according to ‘spiritual research.’” As a queer person & avid consumer of all things strange & spooky, I was amused by the claim, but it lingered with me in a more introspective way. It reminded me of all the damaging refrains used to explain someone’s queerness, & how some of them were true for me: experiencing childhood trauma, growing up without a father. The poem reflects the unsettling feeling of recognizing yourself in the very narratives meant to erase or pathologize you, but it also holds, within that tension, the quiet, ongoing effort to reclaim the self from all of it.

This poem was selected as the runner-up of the Shō Poetry Prize for Shō No. 7.
Read about the Shō Poetry Prize here, or view past recipients and honorees.

A person with short, reddish-brown hair & a neatly trimmed goatee wears a black beret & a black sweater, standing among leafless branches.

Aldo Amparán is the author of Brother Sleep, winner of the Alice James Award & finalist for the Lambda Literary Award for Gay Poetry, & The House Has Teeth, forthcoming from Alice James Books in 2026. They have received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts & CantoMundo. Amparán’s work has appeared in POETRY, Ploughshares, Kenyon Review, The Georgia Review, New England Review, AGNI, the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day, & elsewhere.

A girl in a long white dress and a bird head mask sits on a bough under a full moon in a night forest landscape. Her hands are folded in her lap and her feet can't be seen. Text says: Shō Poetry Journal No. 7 Summer 2025.

From Shō No. 7 (Summer 2025)

Share this poem

  • Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window)Bluesky
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Facebook
  • Click to share on Mail (Opens in new window)Mail
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Twitter
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Pinterest

Sponsor the Shō Poetry Prize

The Shō Poetry Prize for Shō No. 8 is sponsored by . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We are currently seeking sponsors for the Shō Poetry Prize for our 2026 print issues. Sponsors will be acknowledged in print, in our online prize announcements, and on our website, and will receive a print copy of the issue.

The Shō Poetry Prize is an editors’ prize awarded to a US-based poet. The winner receives $150 and a one-year subscription to Shō Poetry Journal.

Interested in sponsoring or supporting the Shō Poetry Prize? Please donate here or share our fundraising campaign here.

Related

Category: Featured Work, Prizes, Read a Poem, Shō Number SevenTag: Aldo Amparan, audio, Shō Poetry Prize

Publishing Stats

Since our revival issue was published in Summer 2023:

260

Poems Published

170

Total Poets Published

73

Audio Features Published

28

Poems Nominated for Prizes

1

Poem chosen for inclusion in Best Spiritual Literature

Shō Poetry Journal


is a proud member of the Community of Literary Magazines and Presses.

Our Story
Masthead
Accolades
Donate
Contact
Submit
FAQ
Newsletter

  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Facebook
  • Bluesky

Copyright © 2025 · Shō Poetry Journal · All Rights Reserved

Privacy policy

We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue to use this site we will assume that you are happy with it.Ok