Poem-A-Day #232 : Masc4Masc

Masc4Masc

must                    clean                   revolver
     keep it     gleaming               like                the sun
no
                    milksops               here       no faggots
        we play                     tennis cricket volleyball golf
are men
                         must keep          being clean men
                                                                               fire
in                place               our cocks are shuttled
are being a spin
                        in a chamber
                                          scar tissue across the cheek

Poem-A-Day #181 : Because I Am Spotted Every Day

Because I Am Spotted Every Day

When you asked about the gym with the monkey on the sign what you meant was that you thought it was gay because there was a monkey on the sign and that the monkey on the sign was flexing and what you actually meant was that the drawing was kitsch as fuck and that is has to be gay then right

And I think I said something about all gyms being homoerotic those bodies in such a small space sweating and pheromoning all over the place and watching each other and performing for each other and then taking selfies in the locker room half naked together and I probably just laughed the comment off in the end because I get it I do but let's be honest here straight men do gay shit all the time

What I really want to ask in the moment though is if you could teach me how to wear flannel like a straight man

Is there a way for me to hide better

Because I am spotted every day

Once in awhile I try stealth just to see how it feels and I only manage a few hours of it before I have to break the silence in the room and by room I mean my head because to be stealth is to actually hide something on purpose and then to have to police yourself constantly to make sure that there isn't a wardrobe malfunction

And I wonder if you have that same experience ever

And I bet you would say that you feel similar things but do you really

When you ask me about the gym being gay and then talk to me about some shit that's real straight I want to throw the pint glass and use the shards of glass to cut your face so you have something to be ashamed of for real

I can get real butch real quick when the weather permits

But only on days without glitter because if there is glitter I will stare into it and think about the light reflecting on my eye and then thick about how our brains invert the things we see to make sense of them and I will be too damn distracted to deal with putting on man for the day

Do you put on man

I check the mirror every morning to see how fag I look so I know how much fag I'll get

There are days where I can't so I don't

And there are days where I'm candy-colored pride parade

And I know there are days you'd rather not but do you know how not to because I had to figure that out at 8 so that I wouldn't be too this too that and I learned how to lower my voice a bit when answering the phone and I learned how not to accent myself I practiced that shit in mirrors and in public and I fell all over myself trying to not stand out to not be harassed to not end up beaten and or dead

And I'm being real histrionic but this is real history as well

But no that is not a gay gym it is a gym and looking at it now I don't even see how you could mistake this my understanding has bled off in the rains of late summer and frankly they have a phone number call them up and ask them if they're gay and let's see what they tell you and then we can start this conversation again after you've been called faggot for real

Poem-A-Day #133 : I See

I've been thinking about my reactions to culture today vs. when I was a teenager. When I was a teen, I wrote long poems about how we were all going to hell and the world was on fire. Today, while I don't write in this way any more, I look at these poems and I feel like little has changed for me emotionally.

It's hard not to want to scream constantly in America these days. It is also hard not to feel helpless in the face of our collective lack of humanity and humility. It is difficult to know what to say.

I've combined a few lines to make things more sensible, young me had a tendency to break lines where punctuation should go and it makes everything confusing. It's over the top and melodramatic and I love it.


I See (7/1/99)

I see hunger and millions crying
I see hatred, bigotry, voices raised in anger
Poverty
Many living in dirt

I see tantrums, ignorance, that many choose to be blind
I see a wish of uprising, devastation, a lack of history
I see land engulfed by man
Baren land

I see a future uncertain
Masses converging, myself in those faces
Bodies
I see history repeating

I see millennial crisis, worlds colliding
Voices rising, disease, everything wiped out
I see a world bare
A tent city raised, a post-apocalyptic hell

I see people turn away
I see a mirror refusing to reflect
I see myself, unintentionally acting out violence on others
I see hypocrisy spilling on the floor of zealots

I see what I take for granted
I see that becoming a missile aimed at myself
I see destruction come forth and I see everything collapse