Take A Picture

I remember as a kid looking at a group of other kids who were making lots of noise when one of them called out ‘Why don’t you take a picture?’ If that happened today I might be tempted but who wants to get charged with invasion of privacy or worse being accused of being some sort of child perv. I don’t do long or second looks anymore, in public.When I moved to Toronto one of the guys I met in recovery had decorated his house with pictures of nude men – paintings, charcoal sketches, photographs. Most were flaccid. He said he liked potential. I, being so fresh to the scene, as it were, preferred the proudly erect fulfillment, not the potential. This did change as I aged, as I saw enough images, engaged enough with the real thing. Porn no longer gets me hard but I enjoy it.Rather I enjoy photos of the naked male. Note ‘photos’ not gifs or movies. I get bored with watching men engage in sex, even amateurs, on the screen. Live sex shows? Haven’t seen one, yet. Video creates an artificial expectation of sex – I’ve met too many guys who wanted to duplicate that action who felt our inability to do was a lack on a personal level. They didn’t like being told these were not instructional videos, that they were not done in single shot set-up.There are some who shame those of us who like to look at ‘smut.’ I don’t pretend I look for spiritual reasons but I’m not going to be shamed either. I’ve come realize that part of reason for looking is that in the flesh, in person-to-person contact there is no distance. One can’t just stop to look for long before the other person says something like ‘what are you looking at?’ ‘is there some thing wrong?’ Live people get self-conscious. A photo lets you look as long as you want, doesn’t blush or even have the right to say ‘don’t look at me you old queen.’ One gets to look at men, who in the flesh, wouldn’t invite a first, let alone a second look.

The Golden Triangle

I wonder where they are

that background – what is it

why that wall paper

why those paintings

the men in the picture

naked sometimes hard

sometimes with fly open enough

to let their business out

or pants pulled down enough

to see pubic flourish

with that aching member arching

into the camera’s eye

my eye

wandering away from the pivotal point

the golden triangle not holding me

as I wonder

where did they get those curtains

where is the light coming from

how long have they squirmed on that couch

that weirdly colored rug

while someone

clicks and focusses

getting them to turn this way that

ooh that’s good

getting them to pout to smile

grimaces that only convey

how uneasy they are in front of a camera

with faces that reveal nothing

not even discomfort

sometimes a splash of stoned

the goofy far away look of someone

who has once again

retreated to some other moment

while someone with a camera

zeros in on the part of them

that tells viewers nothing

that may make mouths water

but it ends there

I wonder what next

did they go for drinks

was there money exchanged

paying their way through college

or

are they just hapless street boys

lost and being prayed upon

are they confident hustlers

aware of the power of their sweet grins

firm chins and eager eyes

is there pleasure there

more than a rote factory of okay

if you ran into one of them on the street

saw him sitting across from you on a bus

or serving you a coffee

what do you say

do you recognize that face

does it seem familiar

but you just can’t place it

without those curtains behind it

if you remember

then what can you say

‘I really dug your PornHub spread’

do they know there are men

out there who know

their photographic pixilated flat screen bodies

better than they know their own flesh

viewer and viewed

strangers in a circle

a lens

that captures them both

one in a moment that never changes

each time it is viewed it is the same

no new light no new angle

can fall on the image

no matter how often

I count the petals on the rose curtains

study the business

that is never put back in its pants

I can never taste it

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