Sober Sex 1


On a recent Disability After Dark one of the men Andrew interviews admits that he has never had sex sober. That was the story of my sex life until I got into recovery. I needed more than a few drinks in me to engage in sex with men (or, in one case a woman). The guys I drank with in Cape Breton were ‘straight’ & after drinks, many drinks things could happen. Booze was ‘excuse juice.’



I can’t speak to their story but I know for me the fear of being out was enough to keep me in – trapped in crushing crushes on some of the guys I drank with, most of whom had girlfriends, wives. None of them talked about being bi or gay. But I wasn’t so deep in my closet that they didn’t know of my interest.

Those opportunities were rare. I knew things were going to happen when one of them would show up with a case of beer or bottle of scotch. There was no real affection involved beyond ‘that feels great.’ I figured that was what sex was supposed to be. Get drunk and mess around.

Being a drunk was part of the downward spiral of being queer, a compulsive, liar, thief, depressed, misunderstood etc. At the time I’d read a psychology book that outlined various mental issues – homosexuality was then classified as a psychosis, a disease. It also talked about alcohol as a depressive drug – I knew the book was wrong on both counts as booze was the only thing that made me happy – yet I was suicidal by the time I left Cape Breton.

When I arrived in Toronto in the late 70’s getting sober was not part of the plan, but it was one of things that happened. Here I was a sober kid in the boozy candy shop of gay discos. Sex without booze was a terrifying concept. How would I build up the nerve to even approach someone? 

Luckily for me there was a solid gay/lesbian presence in recovery so I had examples of that possibility but even they complained of how hard it was to find a good man. I saw the connection between my depression & alcohol. A connection that wasn’t made in the Disability After Dark conversation. 

Andrew, if you read this, think about doing an episode dealing with addictions & disability.

Male – White – 27

Charge – Public Urination

our plan was to have a last draft

but when one of my buds made a joke

about the country-western song just ending

I started to cover my laugh 

with the hand

that was bringing the glass 

to my eager lips

the jerking 

jolt flung the sweet amber suds

into a perfect arc over my shoulder

the sweat slippery glass darted

from my loose grip


Oh for a photo of that glorious 

go-for-the-gold momentum

beer escaping with glass chasing after it

me turning in my seat

eyes agog   mouth agape 

stunned amazement 






I didn’t realized how much energy 

I had in my arm 

to lift with such ballistic force 

that the joke was so freaking funny

to give an extra dash of dynamic energy


the beer flew    spread    lost perfection 

splattered wetly on the table behind us 

splashed on food    faces

there was a dismayed shriek

anger   fucking assholes

the glass came tumbling after

hitting someone on the shoulder

bouncing  smashing on the table 


I was no longer laughing

no one was laughing


my chair tipped as I stood

it fell in the path of 

the bearded biker guy whose girlfriend

got the beer wave in her food

his furious fists punched empty air 

as he stumbled over the chair


next thing I knew 

my buds and I were outside

in a bitter ten-below-zero wind

I was pissing a steaming amber arc

on a car door handle

while one of my buds was up chucking

a police cruiser pulled over

I turned to get out of the way

slipped in vomit

spun in an imperfect circle 

tumbled ass-over-tea-kettle

landed on my back

in a snow bank under a street lamp

fly down   limp dick chillin’

boys in blue hauled me to my feet


and that’s one of the many many reasons 

I now chose not to drink

every Tuesday 2019


Stratford Festival – Nathan The Wise

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? 


Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)

Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C. 

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s – sweet, eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


Bad Sex But a Great Time

On a recent Disability After Dark podcast, Andrew Gurza talks about his emotional responses to great sex. His frankness is always refreshing, especially in an online culture in which naming names – calling ‘oral sex’ a ‘blow job’ is considered against community standards. The podcast looks at how frustrating he finds his physical limitations when it comes to the free-and-easy play that often is sex. How these limitations cause him to question his masculinity.

This, as his podcasts often do, makes me look at how my performance, or my partner’s performance effects the the quality of the sex act. I say ‘sex act’ because there is more to sex than the coming … oops, I guess I should say ‘ejaculation’ to avoid conflict with community standards. It also lead me to think on great sex in general. Technically proficient sex isn’t always great sex.

I’ve had good sex but a bad time; I’ve also had bad sex but a great time; I usually have great sex & a great time. ‘good sex but a bad time’ is about guys who want praise after the act, who figure what gets them off gets you off too & if it doesn’t the problem is you; guys who suck dick but flinch at being kissed – these are usually ‘straight’ or ‘bi’ guys. ‘bad sex but a great time’ – there is one married-with-children guy I see occasionally, usually after a week or so of texting, on-line sexy chat – when he arrives he is so pent up that often he comes taking my pants off – like many guys his energy wanes after orgasm – he likes to cuddle though. Another good time bad sex guy spends more time fussing with condoms and lubes that by the time we start he has to wash up and go. 

Andrew talks about the connection between sex and sense of masculinity. I see this manifest in how rough sex is considered more masculine – that tops are more manly than bottoms. I lost interest in one guy who sent a dick pic with the message ‘are you man enough to deal with this.’ First off, I wasn’t sure it was his dick in the pic; secondly, if all you got to show is a dick pic you aren’t up to my community standards 🙂


Go to iTunes and download Andrew’s podcast on great sex. 


this is the week

when the universal currency is

flowers chocolates hearts and regrets

that get traded with eager expectations

I’ll give you a glimpse of this

if you give me a glimpse of that

I’ll put up with your doing that 

if you allow me to do do this

I’ll treat you like crap 

love you and put up with your crap

because you love me

we exchange these representations

of our willingness to continue 

our little patterns of regret dispute 

in the name of tender loving 

compassionate cooperation

because our relationship is perfect

bouquet trade-offs

of explanations for reality

how far we are willing to compromise 

our teenage ideals 

for our forty-year-old realities

as so many of us

are still ruled by bitter teenagers

who didn’t get the pretty girl 

or great guy we idolized in high school

we still cart that fractured dream

around as a measure of what we want

as if we’d stop some teenager 

in the street today and ask 

‘is this the one for me’


(not that a stranger 

can actually to talk 

to a teenager in the street today

without getting charged for something

but that’s another story

another compromise

to protect us from one another

so where was I)


ah yes

the new universal currency

of regrets fears retribution 

being more satisfying than love

who wants things flow simple and easy 

without the elegant 

encumbrance of expectations 

without the sunny 

undercurrent of resentment

that mental telepathy doesn’t work

and it is your fault

I should not have to tell you 

what I want

you should just know

from the way I wear my hat

oh right, I don’t wear hats

well that should tell you something


it tells you I love you

every Tuesday 2019

June  – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. 

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? 

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2019’s – sweet, eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


Sex Work

On a recent Disability After Dark podcast, Andrew Gurza talks about his experiences with sex workers. He presents a very adult, rational & frank look at his interaction with that market. I’m not a lawyer so I know little about the legalities involved. I do know that many ‘dating’ sites refuse to allow sex workers to use them as a venue for advertising. There was a time when some had an ‘escorts’ section but those were removed to avoid prosecution. Again I don’t know law.

So I hope Andrew doesn’t get into ‘trouble’ at iTunes for this explicit episode. SESTA & FOSTA has created a major chill regarding such ‘sensitive’ adult material, regardless of the context. 

I’ve never engaged a sex worker. I’ve known several, some in 12 step recovery, of various genders & specialities. I didn’t realize there was a ‘pecking order’ until I heard a table dancer going on about call boys being further down on the trade scale. Doing phone sex is considered more respectable than … well, you get the picture.


I can’t say that I’ve never paid for sex or been paid for sex though. I’ve had guys give me taxi fare so we could meet up & as a result I’ve done the same for some guys. It gets to that old argument – he pays for dinner and you have sex after. Is that dating or prostitution?


The one thing I know though is the sex work is as discriminated against as disability. Cultural shaming around sexuality gets even more heated around the sex trade – which like same sex sex has been around as far back as recorded history – there are hieroglyphics.


I have fantasized about affording sex workers though. As Andrew says part of it about control – the payer can pick his player rather than waiting for the right guy to cruise on by. I have yet to fulfill a few fantasies – all involving hot dwarves 🙂

Slap Unhappy

my masochist lover wants to leave

I’m not causing him enough pain

he’s tried of merely being ashamed

of being seen with me in public

he needs more domestic humiliation


I reminded him

it wasn’t my fault 

he needed an audience

in order to feel the depths of abasement

that got him off


besides I have rotor cuff tears from

spanking him every time

the dishes weren’t cleared away fast enough

testicular torture

aggravates my Carpel tunnel syndrome

tennis elbow from fisting

doesn’t get me off at all


the constant stream of abuse

I had to supply him with was so draining

I had no spite left

for people who really deserved it

like that asshole barista

who couldn’t make a decent soya milk latte

a sense of futility

flooded me with each sip

of that fucking no foam latte

I had no choice but to go home

and take it out on my masochistic lover

but that wasn’t enough for him


and now 

my masochistic lover wants

to leave

because I don’t make him suffer enough

he feels I don’t care when I hurt him

that I’m not really into the brick-weighted

nipple clamps

into the cigar scarification

that I do those things with 

too much detachment


I ask him why my not caring

doesn’t add to his sense of being abused

isn’t it worse when the abuser

does it out of boredom

and not out of passion


once he packed up his latex

I slapped him goodbye

then shut the door

January 10, Thursday: 8 p.m. Hot Damn! Its’ a Queer Slam – Buddies in Bad Times Theatre: feature Regie Cabico

returning every Tuesday 2019

June  – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. 

August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2019’s – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


RomCom Rewrite

On Disability After Dark‘s podcast #101 Andrew Gurza rewrites a classic romcom with disability in mind. He picks ‘You’ve Got Mail’ & makes a good plot out of it, but some of the ‘issues’ he’d see addressed come across more as polemic than entertainment – i.e. banning straws. The struggle for accessibility may not play as comedic either – but it’s certainly worth finding out.

This sort of rewriting is something I’ve been doing for years. You know things like: fantasizing that Tarzan would have more fun with the hot Zulu King than that plain Jane he gets stuck with. What was really up with Tony Randall as the ‘straight’ best friend is so many 50’s, 60’s comedies? But of course gays didn’t exist then.

At one time heterocentric entertainment was literally the law. In Hollywood for decades the Hays Commission would force films to remove any mention of divergent sexuality from scripts or edit it out of already filmed footage. In books, queer characters were only acceptable as tragically flawed figures who inevitable had to die by the end of the book.

What if it was Greg Brady who had a crush on the football team captain? What if Bud, on Married With Children, was caught with a copy of Mandate (a gay men’s pin-up magazine) under his bed & not Playboy? Why couldn’t Buffy and Faith ever consummate their clearly sexual attraction? Pop music: why not, say, ‘For Emil wherever I may find him’. Or ‘Mark’s tee-shirt waved in the breeze as Roy Orbison sang.’ 

So when Andrew rewrites those heterocentric fantasy, wish-fulfillment, romcoms into a stories where real people can be a part of things I’m with him 100% ‘When Harry Wheeled Salvator’ ‘American Crip Pie.’ (I use ‘crip’ as Andrew uses it freely.) We need stories where disabled folk aren’t seen as brave but as sexy. 

I’d go further because queering romcom isn’t such a difficult step. There is already a mid-budget niche of good-looking gay gays & gals fumbling in their search for true love. I’d love to see big budget superheroes, or male action figures like James Bond or GI Joe – have a same-sex love interest. Why not Superman with Larry Lane; Iron Man with Pecker Potts. I say male because female-on-female is still more acceptable for general audiences. 

I”d love to see “You’ve Got Inspector Mobility Device.”

Born to be Blown

just wrap your lips ’round these velvet rims 

and strap your hands ‘cross my engines

‘cause Daddy

we were born to cum


do I have to tell you

I want to fuck you

in a song

or is that the sort of thing

you can’t say in a song


even with all the out singers

there’s still this smothering

hetero cloaking of

what queer pop performers

are willing to say


it’s fine to say

I miss you in the morning


I miss your woodie in the morning

the bed is so empty without you

is acceptable

but my mouth is so empty without you

will never make to the charts

she can sing

I long for the taste of you 

on my tongue


I long for the taste

of my pussy 

on your tongue

is just going to far


why are there no queer anthems like

‘Born to be Blown’

‘B-B-Bad to the Boner’

not that I want

to reduce being queer to body parts

but honey

taking the sex out of homosexual

to maintain assimilationist acceptability

gets to be boring


the empty space in the bed

isn’t as lonely

as the empty space between my legs

that you used to fill with your face

the smile I miss

is your smile when 

I look up at you 

with your dick in my mouth


where is the chart topper

that isn’t ashamed of desire

that doesn’t hide in coy cloying


let’s bring sex back to sexy


if I have to tell you

I want to fuck you

in a song

I guess i’m going

have to write that song myself

but ‘til I do

get your mouth a runnin’

get head on the highway

looking for adventure

in whoever comes my way


wrap your hips ’round these velvet lips 

strap your hands ‘cross my engines

‘cause Daddy 

we were born to cum

every Tuesday

October 5/6/7 – Gratitude Round-Up

September or October but to be confirmed – feature – The Art Bar, Free Times Cafe

June  – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr



On the 100th episode of the Disability After Dark podcast Andrew Gurza talks at length with Amin Lakhani ( What starts out as an interview quickly becomes revealing, explicit conversation – the sort of stuff guys never talk about or if they do they are too drunk to keep secrets. It ranges from masculinity to how their declining manual dexterity has changed their masterbation techniques. This is not a podcast for the prudish.

I have been listening to Andrew’s podcast from some years now, starting with his previous ‘brand’ to his rebranding as Disability After Dark. No being disabled myself he has given me a sensitivity & insight to the process of marginalization. I recently saw The Tempest at Stratford. One of the characters Caliban is facial disfigured, plus has a sort of humpback & when he shows a sexual interest in Miranda he is demonized for daring to think she might find him attractive. 

In previous viewing of this play, by various directors & performers, I never saw as a ‘problem’ This viewing was different thanks to Andrew pointing out often otherly-abled are either to be pitied in entertainment or are villains. Often their sexuality is considered a sickness rather than a natural part of being human.

Anyway, like the podcast, I digress. Their conversation was expansive, honest & revealing. I related to much of their struggles with emotional connecting vs monogamy. I am in the non-monogamy camp – more akin to polyamory for me. Letting go of the idealization that one finds a life partner, a soul mate has freed me to enjoy the men I am with as men not as some sort of fulfillment of a cultural imperative.

Congratulations on turning 100. Andrew for epsisode 111 I suggest a live podcast 🙂

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

Good Sex With Andrew Gurza


(Trigger warning: explicit man on man sex)

On a recent Disability After Dark Andrew Gurza  describes in explicit & visceral detail good M2M sex he has had. Refreshing & bold he takes us into a bedroom, holding nothing back (except the name of his sex partner). There is nothing ‘show off’ about his descriptions just a sense of his pleasure & joy in sex. He talks about rimming without shame – actually names it. It is neither pornographic nor clinical – matter of fact & honest. 

Like me he prefers more than just the dropping of pants that reduces sex to body parts. Good sex for me starts with texting – one guy I see will send a text asking what my weekend plans are – I know that means ‘let’s play.’ If I’m free, which I usually am, he follows up with a least one selfie of his stunning smile then another of his equally fine cock. I do the same.

Good sex involves dinner here. One guy sometimes sends a day before pic showing his eagerness. Day of dinner texts are confirmation of time, a mention of the food menu. Sometimes there is an exchange of shower/bath pics too. I always like to know when a guy is on his way from the subway or parking his car so I can wait on my front steps for him & can watch as he comes up the walk. 

This walk is so sweet because this is the only time we really see each other from a distance. Weather & time permitting we chat a bit outside about the weather, the week & go inside to sup. There is often chat over supper with my partner (who doesn’t play). Table cleared. 

Up to my study after supper. Quick wash up, brushing teeth (one of my guys has his own toothbrush here). Then on to the play portion of the evening – alway starts with hugging kissing rubbing of clothed junk, hands into pants for fondling until pants are ready to explode off. The first touch of naked belly to belly can give me chills – maybe we will rotate around each other for belly to back, erections caressing between ass cheeks. 

Onto the bed for lots more kissing, hugging, cock sucking, tit teasing, ball sucking, ass eating, penetration, ejaculating (too clinical? fucking & coming). More snuggles, chit-chat, washing up, sometimes more sucking & fucking. Occasionally down to watch some TV. Sad parting as I watch them walk to the subway or find their car. Occasionally a text five minutes later to say ‘great time.’

I Still Dream of Wee Willie

Wee Willie stomped the ground 

in his pen

agitated bellowing

I dashed to see what was going on


my mother reached to hold me back

I eluded her easily

Wee Willie reared on his hind legs

that was all the glimpse I got

before my mother’s shawl 

covered my head

but in that gimpse 

I saw all she was afraid I’d see


the rose pattern shawl 

was the one she used

to cover her crystal ball

the future was to be veiled at all times

so she told her customers

only the hand of spirit 

and $10 could move it


what it hid from me was not my future

but Wee Willie pawing the air

with lumbering legs

as he teetered toward Daisy Blue


I pulled the shawl away

I had to see if they were fighting

then I saw for the first time

Wee Willie erect

his elephant cock in gory glory

it was huge enormous

bigger even than that of Herculo

the muscle man


Wee Willie clambered 

onto the back of Daisy Blue

she was docile 

her big ears flickered 

as she moved her head side to side

his humungous cock got bigger harder

his weight upon her back


I fainted

I came to in our trailer

my shoulders ached 

under the weight of my dreams

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice-cream in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh? 

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

The Smart Girl

For the summer I’m going back to the series of pieces mythologizing my growing up in Cape Breton.

The Smart Girl

Magdalena Moore

was the smartest girl

in our village

her father Patrick Moore 

was the county comptroller

so we figured she got her brains from him

and his wife Haldora Thorsen

who was in charge of the DNA splicing lab

at the fission plant

it was Haldora who labelled us

as monochromatic bores

who only cared about or health

when the villagers complained

about run off from the plant


Magdalena had copper hair

that glittered with flecks 

of purple blue in the sunset 

it was impossible not to be mesmerized

when she shook it loose

to cascade over her shoulders


all the boys

had a crush on her

they would pester her with small gifts

carved moose bones

robin spoons

all of which she accepted

with her bird-like laugh

all of which would show up


at the choir’s annual garage sale

no one cared 

that she was wheel-chair bound

it added to her allure

for she had been born

with her legs fused together

from her crotch to her ankles

she did have feet

but the toes were also fused together

she made no secret of this


her mother claimed

there was no relation to Magdalena’s

fusion and the fission plan

or the genetic alterations in the moose

her work in genetics

proved that these things happened

with no prior cause

things change


Magdalena did change

as she grew older

she became bored of being

the smartest girl in the village

she longed to be an ordinary person


she became abusive

with anyone who said

I see you as a whole person

not as someone with fused legs

your real person is so much more

than that

besides you have such a pretty smile


she replied

if you don’t see them

you don’t see the real me

transcending my body

denies the full real me


when she got like this

people would pat her head

touch her hands to sooth her

or her mother would medicate her

it didn’t matter 

how smart she was

as long as she was compliant


one summer her parents

entered her in the  

Village Queen Beauty Contest

along with several other virgins

her talent was yodelling

because she was so brave

the judges were willing

to give her a pass on the swim suit

part of the contest

but she refused to take it

she rolled on the stage

at the end of the docks

wearing a bikini top

of two maple leaves

a beach towel to cover her

then she pulled the towel away

flaunting her fused legs

for all the world to see


at first people were too shocked

to look away

before they could react

she threw herself into the water

her parents sat

on the edge of the pier


hoping their tears

could lure her back


when they found her body

two days later

her legs were no longer fused

This a brand new Village Story. I wrote some fresh ones to have enough to post this summer. I wanted to see if I could return to the voice of my narrator and also challenge myself with more contemporary issues. In this case disability. It is also an echo of one of the earlier pieces: Consumption

Followers of my blog will also see the influence of Andrew Gurza‘s Disability After Dark podcast. He talks clearly about representation & acceptance. I wanted write about those issues while working them into the fabric of this mythology. I hope I’ve struck a balance between irony & compassion & humour.  

I revisit the unwillingness of commerce to be accountable for their actions: i.e. the fission plant’s genetic damage to the villagers. A denial that continues even when one of the victim’s is their own children. It makes me think of the Flint water crisis clearly caused by industry but no one has offered a solution merely blame.

I touch on that ablism that happens when people think they are being sensitive – ‘you have such a pretty smile’ – Implying that the smile is some sort of compensation for the damaged body, so cheer up. The medicating is another of those avoidances. When the disabled try to bring attention to their needs they are often considered uncooperative & truculent. It’s easier to medicate them than listen to them. 

The ending is harsh but I wanted to push out of my comfort zone. Andrew has been told, more than once, by an abled person that if they were as disabled as he they would probably kill themselves and that he was so brave. I also wanted to avoid the obvious ending – she turns into a mermaid & swims away. So went for that harsh ending.

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Naked Truth

On a recent Disability After Dark podcast Andrew Gurza talks about his pursuit of hot pictures of himself. In an online world in which photos have become the lure for everything from ebook sales to dating getting that right shot is crucial. There are sites devoted to teaching you, for a modest fee, how to create an ebook cover that will make your book a best seller. With people judging a book cover by a thumb nail pic that cover better have enough eye appeal to get them to click for more.

I see many profiles on dating sites that say ‘no pic no response.’ Many, myself included, won’t click on a profile if there isn’t a picture. You can’t even register on some sites without a photo. So that photo lure has to have more than eye appeal. For me – it should also be in focus, with decent lighting. It should be of the one posting the profile. I have seen pics that I recognize that clearly aren’t of the poster. I have a friend who has found other men using his dick pics as their own.

I understand Andrew’s search & need for a great sexy pic & how hard it can be to pose for one & have it look natural (if it’s a face pic). Body parts aren’t as difficult but even there one hits limits. Getting decent ass selfie requires a fair bit of agility. To maximize a cock pic the best angle requires another photographer. Or, in both cases, an elaborate set up of mirrors.

I have over the years learned how to take decent selfies in mirrors. One trick is to make sure you are in the frame, look into the mirror & then snap your pic. Same holds true for cell phones, at least for my flip phone. Though my best ‘action’ shot was taken by the other guy – it is hard to hold a camera & take a selfie while you body is caught up in …. ahem …other activities.

Andrew also talks about photos & body image. For years I hated pictures of myself – I didn’t realize how unflattering the angle used in many of them were & they was possible to photos, taken by others, where I looked okay. Underwear selfies made me even more comfortable with my body. I’ve see nudes of Andrew & let me tell you his body is photogenic even when he doesn’t have a hard-on.

Life of An Unknown Poet

I was handing my debit card

to the Winners clerk

to pay for some new undies

when my camera crew 

got into shoving match 

with her camera crew


I didn’t see how out of hand things were

till I watched a podcast of 

The Making of The Life of An Unknown Poet

by the crew following my camera crew

my head camera man was asked

how did the poet feel

when he was accosted 


he pointed his camera at me

as I walked out of the store

I looked back

glad I was still the one on camera

I was tempted to go back

but didn’t want to interrupt

the entertainment food chain


I had my own life to be filmed

and what he thought I thought

about the shoving match

wasn’t all that vital to me

the world knew how shallow I was

for a poet


except for this show 

I remained unknown

even after six seasons

and this pissed me off

in fact my viewers

asked to see me pissing

but I had to draw the line somewhere

they could only watch me flush

I have some pride


later there was a news report 

about the shoving match

someone was injured

not one of my crew or my crew’s crew


it struck me how futile it was

that no matter what one did

someone was bound to suffer

that even allowing my personal angst

and new undies

to be the fodder of millions

it didn’t stop the circle of suffering


the camera crew applauded me 

as I wrote those lines about suffering

which made it all worth while once again

I can go living giving my all

even if there is no chance of sex 

unless that camera man 

from the clerk’s camera crew is available

he looked kind of hot

in the podcast of the shoving match 

needs a shave 

his bloody nose gave this unknown poet 

a spark of known reality

every Tuesday

September or October (maybe)  to be confirmed – feature – The Art Bar, Free Times Cafe

June  – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked) 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


On a recent Disability After Dark podcast Andrew Gurza talks with his new research assistant Rae. Both of them talk candidly about the layers of ‘outsider’ they have & still do experience as a result of many factors involving their disabilities. Having spent the first ten years of my life on the move as my Dad’s job took us from Manitoba to the east coast & ultimately to Sydney in Cape Breton, I certainly experienced being an ‘outsider.’

Even in Sydney there was three moves before we settled into a house we called home (which is still in the family). On top of which my mother returned to Wales regularly in the summer to visit with her family taking me with her. I was never like other kids wherever I was.

I put a lot of energy into being normal enough to get along with adults, kids, teachers & never felt I was succeeding. Not that I knew what success was supposed to be. Good marks? Lots of playmates? A girlfriend? Being invisible seemed like a good option. I am not disabled in the clear way Andrew is but I can sense the complexity of his need to be accepted for who he is but not knowing who to do that in the lgbtq+ world, let alone the world outside that. 

Albert Camus says in The Stranger: “Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.” I didn’t realize how much energy I put into being seen as normal until I said ‘Fuck it” – I’ve done all I can & it hasn’t happened yet. I certainly tried all the things that to make me attractive, desirable, acceptable and I was usually left disappointed & even a little bitter. 

Things like free-weights, good hair products, name-brand jeans with the perfect tee-shirt for bar appeal. When I stopped doing that for others but for myself I felt free. Not that I don’t work out enough, or enjoying looking presentable but the fact is I’ll be that hot gay guy I was sure everyone wanted. I became comfortable in my own skin.

But I don’t have to face the same struggles for even accessibility that Andrew does. I can walk up the stairs to get to the dance floor. 

Oogie Inferno 

if you’re thinkin’ I’m too old to boogie

boy oh boy have I got news for you

I love the sweaty potential of the dance floor 

the solid mass of men mobile   shifting

eagerly crammed    crowded by the bass line

the righteous revival fever of a contralto

everybody here tonight must boogie


let me tell ya

I was no exception to the rule

the heat was on (burnin’) rising to the top, huh!

eyes closed   hands open

shirtless strutters in sweat soaked satin shorts

muscles    bloated bellies   

a man spinning his wheelchair in circles

no one cares

as flesh wound around  pulled by the driving

boogie oogie oogie


an endless moment of contact high

thigh to thigh contact

the heat was on, rising to the top

where the keyboard was underfoot

put your feet to the beat

peak after peak of solid state sweat

turn this beat around

no voice heard that wasn’t amplified

no time to waste, let’s get this show on the road

listen to the music and let our bodies flow

yowsa yowsa yowsa    dance dance dance

shame shame shame  ga ga ooh la la

we were shimmering glittering

ready to take on the future    beep beep toot toot


I love the moment of stepping into the mass

the sooner I begin 

the longer I’ve got to groove

listen to the music and let bodies move

make a space for myself

get approving once overs

then not care who’s lookin’

but when my spark got hot

I heard somebody say

burn baby burnin’ the house down

gonna boogie oogie oogie

till you just can’t boogie no more


I love the blur as I am transported 

out the body   out of the mind

satisfaction (uhu huh huh) in the chain reaction

released from all sense of self

except for the one caught     immersed 

push push in the bush bush

lost for hours

boogie oogie oogie


taking a breather wet glistening

asked what are you on

my nothing being disbelieved

as if the music and testosterone  

aren’t enough for me to

burn that cocksucker down

because have I got news for you

this could be the last dance

last chance for a bad romance

everybody here tonight must 

boogie oogie oogie

every Tuesday

September or October but to be confirmed – feature – The Art Bar, Free Times Cafe


June 8/9 – Capturing Fire 2019 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked) 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr


Objectify Me, Please

While listening to a recent Disability After Dark in which Andrew Gurza talks with ‘AJ’ Murray I appreciated their wish to be sexually objectified. Both have experienced enough respect for their minds, their ‘bravery’ that they like to be seen as a sex object. Having had enough men tell me they don’t like me ‘in that way’ I have wondered what it would be like to objectified as opposed to objected to 🙂

By objectified I don’t mean body part specific either – there are enough guys into just dick, or bubble butt ass while the only body part they are really into is their own dick or ass. Getting themselves off is what turns them on, not enjoying the other person’s body except as a come receptacle.

Until I passed 50 my sex life was fairly quiet. Opportunity was limited to bars which were geared to drinking, drugging & dancing. Dancing I could do but the other two were not a part of of my life. I wasn’t willing to hang out until 2 a.m. hoping for the best. Then along came the internet saving guys like me the need to on the prowl at 2 a.m. I could be on the search at 2 p.m, if chose to. I learned the lure of the picture, the power of the right camera angle.

I realize that I experience a social context distancing & not the literal physical disregard Andrew & AJ live with. One of the focal points of Andrew’s mission is to make people realize that everyone has sexual needs – that it is time to stop thinking disability neuters people. Dismissing those sexual needs as the least of the disables’ concerns, he wants to be seen & treated as fully human. Plus being as objectified as, say, Chris Hemsworth.

Memory Itch

he stopped  clouted the man beside him

I heard them swearing 

from across the street

I wanted to walk faster 

slower at the same time

to find out what the anger was about

before words could be made out

the smack flashed out

a back of the hand slap

with enough force to stagger the man hit

what the ….

He didn’t have time for reaction 

when he was hit again again

hitting back while falling to the sidewalk 

kicking up and out

people dodge around them

pissed at the nuisance

I wanted to go over   stop things

someone else stepped in

I’ll call the cops if you keep this up

go ahead buddy the one hit laughed 

go right ahead

why was he laughing

blood dribbling on his chin

someone had a cellphone 

were they calling or taking pictures

I kept going 

my hands fists in my coat pocket

darting looks on either side of me

strangers cold and determined

I longed to be one of these indifferent ones

but I wasn’t

their hands didn’t sting itch

with memory the way mine did

every Tuesday

June 8-9 – Capturing Fire 2018 – Washington D.C. (flight & hotel already booked) 

September  or October TBA – The Art Bar, Free Times Cafe

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s – sweet,eh?

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr