Published in Bullets and Butterflies

bottom who doesn’t

I fell in love this week
Well, in ... and out, but still
It’s rare for me to find myself in this position
Because I am a hard man to fit
Being a ninety percent clean and sober poet
(The ten percent is the one beer I allow myself
Twice a month just to cut through the terror)
(Plus, a half a hit of acid now and then
So I can go see the Buzzcocks
And the Cramps, on consecutive nights
In spite of my outrageously advanced age)
Nothing about me is pure or simple
I’m a bottom who doesn’t like to get fucked
I’m a top who doesn’t like to take control
I’m a man from Venus with female Mars rising
I’m a spiritual sex addict
I’m a romantic who turns into hot stuff at orgies
I’m a Blow Buddies regular and you wouldn’t think
after all these years and men and lessons
that I would still be ready to pick out china patterns
after spending 90 minutes with a man
But I am ... I am
A butch motherfucker with a twelve year old girl at my inner core
I’m a huge sissy and one of the original punk rockers
I’m a motormouth with social anxiety disorder
I’m a control freak who loves to surrender
I’m a perfectionist who can’t get organized
I don’t ask any more ‘Where is my tribe?’
There is no tribe
There is no tight knit group of loving friends a la ‘Queer as Folk’
So when a man comes along
Who’s into playing in the bushes, who’s into sunsets at the beach
Who shows interest in the world of poetry
Who isn’t a drunk and isn’t a drug addict
Who calls me back when I call him
(We’re down to less than point one percent of the gay male population of SF by now)
Who likes to be on top even when he’s being a bottom
Who not only sees my male and female facets
But who is willing to let me see his and hers
Who can take a break in the lovemaking and have some silly laughs
And still be turned on a moment later
Then I’m starting to fall in love
Even though he is twenty years younger than me
And I know that’s a problem
Even though he doesn’t even live on this continent
And I know that’s a set-up for heartbreak
Even though he is much too beautiful and well built for me
And I know that’s going to be a challenge
Then I take the week that I’m given
And I say thank you
I take the sleepless nights when the bed suddenly feels so empty
And I say okay
I take the night, or two, of tears
And I say Hallelujah
Maybe there’s life in this old girl yet
I am an ancient rock n roller who still believes
I would have gone to France for Alain
I thought he was the greatest thing since sliced brie
His smile is like the sun appearing from behind one of those damn alps
His cock is the perfect halfway mark between a creampuff and a nice big salami
His body has more curves than the Tour de France
It would have been great to travel that course year after year
I would have followed him to the moon in a parallel universe
in this one ... I’m a vagabond who never goes anywhere
I’m a dreamer with both feet on the ground
I’m the Boy Named Sue, a Ball of Confusion, the Acid Queen, and Aladdin Sane
And I don’t think I’m any different from any body else

 

confessions of a jerk-off retard

My first orgasm was with a friend
He called it milking the cow
One hand tickled while the other went to work
We were what would now be called: goal-oriented
Our eyes glazed and intense as revolutionaries
It would have been romantic if everything had been different
Me being the latchkey kid, he came over Monday through Friday
We had our routine, terrifying and necessary
and transcendent as milking a cow could be
One day I decided to try it on my own
I pumped, jerked and was pulling my milker
when the door sounds of mother interrupted my experiment
I stuffed my overloaded cow-cucumber-slug thingie
back into my tight teenage pants
Cramped and practically tied into knots it remained
during dinner and tv and questions about homework
When finally, time for bed, ready for pajamas
I looked and saw my misshapen, creased, bent, mushroomed monster
and I thought I broke my dick
I broke my dick
That moment I made a deal with God
I will never touch my dick like that again
If it gets better after this time
I will never beat off again
Omigawd, I broke my dick
I can never do that again
I will only let other boys do it for me
That was the deal
This is a tool that other boys know what to do with
Not me, not me
This is a toy that other boys know how to play with
In the library, in the swimming pool, in the bathroom at the
mall, in the department store during christmas shopping,
in the back of the bus, out by the railroad tracks in June
down in the parking garage, in your car, in your apartment
Take your teeth out I don’t care
5’6”, 240, Vangelis on the stereo, sure, go ahead
You wanna touch it, touch it
It’s yours, this body
It looks like mine but it’s not, it’s yours
Then, when I ended up in a podunk college
without queer bars or lonely old men in bus depots
or horny gay guys in libraries
(Trust me, it was straight as astronomy)
I went three months with no touch, nobody and nothing
Too uptight even for wet dreams
I thought I would go mad unless I took matters in hand
I took a pencil
Finally, yes, I took a pencil
And without even undoing my pants
I poked at my jeans
I poked and prodded for a full 30 seconds...with a number 2 pencil
Okay, the eraser end
I prodded my pecker with a pencil eraser
Being the jerk-off retard that I am
I came...in less than a minute
After which, I checked my underwear
And there, along with a half pint of cum
In my midwestern tidy whites
Were spots of blood
Where there should have been just cum
There was blood
Omigawd, I broke it again
I broke my dick
God, oh God, I forgot the deal
Wait, can’t we go back
If you put it back the way it was
I’ll put it back where it was
Which I did and — Lo and Behold — the next day
There was no blood: so I packed my bags
and moved to the big city with all the queer boys
and horny old men and hot tricks and married bisexual guys
and gay bars and dark alleys and bushes at the beach
and beating off became entirely unnecessary
So now you know one story of how someone can become
the kind of Freak you can’t take home to mother
But it’s all right: this world has many such stories
We might as well all get comfortable

 

it came from behind

I haven’t gotten fucked for fifteen years
But 2004 is up for grabs
Here I am: ankles up around Jimmy’s ears
He said he was a talented top and he was right
Here I am: “Ow! Wait. Unhhh. Slow. Down. Okay. Owwww!”
unsure if this counts as taking it like a man
Here I am: breathing through the pain
Make it hard, make it hurt, why not
I had to swallow my outrage and disgust
at seeing pictures of those Iraqi prisoners getting tortured
There I was, thinking the human race might be getting better
wiser, gentler, more loving, more compassionate
Man - Jimmy! - do I ever need to get fucked
I wanted to leap from the Golden Gate bridge
Make a sign with one of those awful pictures of pain and humiliation
Scribble ‘Not in My World’
and just jump
Thing is, the Official Incorporated Religion of Greedy Power mongers
Already blames fags, dykes and trannies for what happened in Abu Gharib
We dragged America the Formerly Beautiful
Through leather fairs, S & M, Pride celebrations, male pulchritude
Parades of shamelessly powerful female breasts and gender jumble
Now we’re going to ruin marriage
Now we’re coming after the children
Now we’re infiltrating armies
Dedicating it all to the Burning of the Bush
Might as well call it a religious experience
Up to my eyeballs in blood and bile, piss and spunk
Wicked thick bottled-up rage
It’s gonna take a corkscrew dick to straighten out my shit
Yeah, I got fucked last night for the first time since 1989
We did fuck safe though - we will fuck safe too
Precisely because so many real assholes want us dead
Cause the world is different I have to be different
I have to let it all inside
I want to be a gaping hole
My wound as big as all outdoors
I wanna be fucked alive by the army I believe in: Volunteer
Busting out of their briefs, fully loaded, and - you know - consenting
The future, this country, and my ass
Fucked, fucked, fucked
Thank you, Presidential Prick
Thing is, heroes and villains can be hard to distinguish
They both come from behind
Lighting a mortal fire deep within
Undeniably, irresistibly, unbelievably
I’m alive and so is my ass
Good job, Presidential Prick
You’ve made me feel Born Again

 

© 2005 Horehound Stillpoint - Contributor's Bio

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