On Ass
A poem about being gay and horny.
Our sweet little romance
had been but a few hours.
We were pretty raw,
eyes darting left
As I drank in the verdict.
and just
groped each other while we waited.
With swagger of a well armed man
he began his target practice.
I stood inside his 44 Magnum strap
thick and heavy, consumed with lust.
I was smoke from a double action competent arsonist
from a nothing shot scratch handwriting
taken in the rituals of screaming like maniacs.
I happily became a later convert.
Saint Shoebill holds the feminine idol in her arms. She is stern and righteous, ready to away the urge to objectify and control. The horse shamefully shows himself the door.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this reprieve from my more serious work. I always intended this to be a mixed media project, and I’m excited to take you along for this journey as we branch into unexpected places.