Lazarus Kiss.15

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others

and a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

*15*

Trevor was standing impatiently at the entrance when Harris arrived and they sat at a table in the quiet room of main house.

As they pulled their chairs in Alex came over to wipe the table down. Harris made eye contact with him. This is the face that had been bugging him all week? Did the busboy remember him?

“How are you gents tonight?”

“Fine.” Harris was chagrined that there was no reaction to his look.

A couple of tables emptied and the busboy rushed over to clear them. Harris was disappointed. After all this expectation he had hoped for more of a reception. That Alex would acknowledge him somehow. But how? With a big wet kiss in front of Trevor.

“So, what’s this surprise.” Harris asked.

Cally came to the table. They ordered Sapporo’s and his standing order of fries.

“Cool it Dog. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Harris quickly filled Trevor in on a few of things that had happened in the past week. Pulled up his Venom tee-shirt to show the bruise.

“Whoa, now that a bruise all right.”

He was getting to the almost home invasion that afternoon when Trevor pulled out his cell.

“Look I gotta call my mother. Shouldn’t be too long Dog.”

He went upstairs.

Alex came to the table. “ ‘Bout last week …”

“You remember that do you?” Harris was relieved and not relieved. He didn’t understand why it was this man and not say one of the waitress that had stayed in his mind.
“Fer sure.”

“I’ve been thinking about it myself.” The busboy was heavier set than he remembered. “I’m heterosexual.”

“I reckon as much. I don’t know what made me …. ”

“Here’s my number. Call me.” Harris jotted his number on a coaster like he’d seen many women do. He could remember them doing it but not who they were.

The busboy grabbed the number and shoved it under his apron and into a pocket. “I will. We c’n meet fer coffee or sometin’.”

“Yeah I think I’d like that. See you in broad daylight.”

“Lots of tables upstairs, Alex.” Cally nudged him with her hip.

Alex bowed and left.

“He’s not bothering you is he?” Cally asked.

“Yeah. I hate having my table cleared.” Harris laughed. “He’s bothering you?”

“No. No. Alex is my baby brother. He has a bit of …. an anger problem … chewed a couple of guys out the other night for not tipping us well enough. I didn’t him to do that with you.”

Harris raided his eyebrows.

“Not that I mean you’re a bad tipper. You guys are regulars, is all, and well ….”

“Cally, he’s not bothering me.”

He wanted to ask more about Alex but Trevor came down the stairs. A stunning woman behind him. They came to the table.

“So this is the surprise?” Harris stood as she sat down.

She wore well tailored slacks, a deep red blouse over a light blue camisole that framed very inviting cleavage. Her long black hair had streaks of red and blond in it. Or was the red a reflection of the room’s lighting. On her left breast was the tattoo of a star that drifted up and down under the edge of her camisole.

“You don’t recognize her.” Trevor grinned.

From his expression Harris knew this was a woman he should know.

“It’s not your sister.”

The woman laughed and sipped her drink. Her eyes gleamed playfully.

“Nope, nor is it my Auntie Nilasha. Take a good look.”

The woman leaned forward and pulled her hair back. Harris tried to keep his eyes on her face but the little star was hard to resist.

“Come on, Harris, surely you can’t have forgotten me. You promised you never would.”

“Laura!” He recognized the voice instantly. He was flabbergasted. It was as if he’d spoken to her yesterday.

“I told you he’d be happy.” Trevor hoisted his bottle. “To old times.”

“But how … “ Harris looked from Trevor to Laura.

“Dog, after the way you went on about her last week I figured you should see her. You know. See if those old feelings were holding you back.”

“How did you track her down.”

“Oh that wasn’t too hard.” Laura explained. “He looked me up in the phone book. Doctor Laura Jameson.”

“Doctor! What kind?”
“Psychiatry – geriatric research is my main area. I have you to thank for that.” She patted his thigh under the table. “They have memory problems.”

“Well, Dog, I’m going to leave you two to get caught up. I’ll call you later.”

Once Trevor left Harris wasn’t sure what to say or where to begin.”

“I made things pretty hard for you once upon a time.” He started to apologize.

“Not many eighteen year olds get that much attention. It was flattering on one hand and confusing on the other.”

“What was so confusing about roses?”

“Oh, the roses” she laughed. “They were quite a shock. A pleasant one. Everyone at the store thought I was dumb for not taking up with you right then and there. It was a rom-com movie moment. They might have worked too if … well … I after I cold shouldered you that afternoon at the bookstore, I looked for you that night. Came across you at that campus pub. You and some girl were all over each other. My heart sank, it meant the roses didn’t mean anything.”

“I’m sorry I …”

“Yeah, any port in a storm to mend a broken heart. Consequently the other things you tried after that didn’t hold water at all. I knew your reputation too, though I never got it, you know what the girls saw in you. I tried to remember what had made me attracted to you. Not that you are repulsive but ….”

The waitress brought them fresh drinks.

“You weren’t my type at all. When I first saw you struck me as that chubby loser type who had more luck with his comic book collection that the opposite sex. Yet after talking to you for a few minutes I was willing. Later I knew I’d slept with you. But I couldn’t remember it at all. Nothing. Which made me wonder about memory and took me down the path into the geriatrics and cognitive awareness.”

“Wow.” Harris sipped his beer, glanced at her star. “So you found me unattractive and yet …”

“ Maybe it was your pheromones. I had sex with you. Yeah. I was young and horny I suppose. You’re aquainted with what that’s like.”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked back over the years. He recalled body parts, tongues, breasts – he sensed the slipping of bodies, of his cock into vaginas but there were no faces to go with any of those scenes, no entire bodies either, except for Laura. All these years since her no one’s face, even name, has stuck to him except hers. “You know, I understand you not remembering.”

“Yeah, well guys are different and you had a reputation for being a box hound. I doubted if you could remember half the girls you slept with. The mind can only hold so much information. At least Casanova had a better memory.”

“But I remembered you. I still do. The birth mark under your left breast.”

“That is impressive. I should use you in one of my memory studies. Long term good. Short term not as good. What have you been up to.”

“Got my MA and ended working for an online comic-book collectors’ magazine for a few years writing specs and things like that, learned about graphics, animation, and now am an editor-at-large for dE.tail Co. We look after on-line businesses, catalogues, purchasing platforms of various types. Apps are shaking up the market. I’m essentially a proof-reader and shadow tweaker.”

“Shadow tweaker?” She reached for her drink and her star bobbed in and out of view.

“As TS said ‘Between the motion and the fact falls the shadow ….’ or in my line of work between the … uh … objects on the screen is an area of dark that gives the appearance of depth. By manipulating pixels I can create a shadowy depth that invites the motion of purchase. Santa’s Sex Toy Shoppe is very pleased.”

“Pays well?”

“Good enough. Bought a condo last year.”

‘Still single?”
“Yes.” He wanted to tell her about the curse. She might be a person who would actually understand. “You?”

“Almost. No one has brought me roses, yet.” she laughed sending the star dancing along her camisole. Was there was more than one of them?

“I don’t think I’ve done that for anyone else. I still have that memory problem.”

“What? So excited about the possibility of the next one you can’t remember the last one. Typical human behavior. We’ve done cognition studies on how expectation can effect what we retain in our memory.”

“The easier it to get things the less we bother to remember them when we get them.”

“Something like that. It’s been great meeting you again. When Trevor called me I wasn’t sure but then what the hell. I did wonder what had become of you, if you might have changed at all. In some ways you have?”
“How? Besides being a little heavier?”

“You didn’t make a pass at me.”

“True. I was waiting for the right moment.” he laughed.

“When there’s no interest there is no right moment. I wanted to see if I was at all interested in you. I’m not. Now if you’d been hitting the gym, maybe. Seems there are enough who like your unformed look.”

“Guess I’m one of those guys who needs the right woman to look good for.”

He walked her to the sidewalk in front of Story and waved down a cab for her. “Be well.” She kissed him quickly on the mouth and got in the taxi.

He went in to pay their tab. Her kiss brought back that first their kiss. No kiss he had before or since her had that same effect. Not that he heard bells but it complete and satisfying. A kiss he didn’t want to forget.

What did she mean by ‘unformed look?’ Was that a code for too fat or what? He wasn’t that much over-weight. That emergency doctor said he was packing a few extra pounds not that he was obese.

He’d never paid that much attention to his body. Why worry, when he had women always hitting on him. But that wasn’t because he was attractive but because he was cursed. Fuck, he could be ugly as sin and anyone would be caught in a compulsion to be with him. Had anyone ever really wanted him, or even liked him?

Back outside he wondered if he should walk back to his place, take the subway or hail a cab for himself.

“Harris.” A hand on his shoulder.

He turned around it was Alex.

“I’ll call ya.” Alex stood too close.

“Yeah sure.” Harris didn’t know what to do when Alex abruptly kissed him. Once again it was unexpected but perfect. Harris wondered what tattoos Alex had.

Harris started walking. If his Dad’s intent has been to turn his son’s life upside down he had certainly succeeded. Knowing about this curse, or whatever it was, confused him. Did he have a friendship that wasn’t in one way or the other the result of it?

Can’t wait to read the whole thing? order the PDF for $5.00 – paypal.me/TOpoet – say you want Kiss

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Chick Corea

Jazz-rock fusion put Chick Corea on the charts with his funky, latino sensibility. He was a well respected jazz musician before but his Return to Forever band made his reputation. My first real introduction was in Cape Breton when some local jazz musicians returned to the island after a time in Toronto. Some of the pieces they brought back were Spain, 100 Miles High. Flute sweet & keyboard sensuous I loved it.

Return to Forever recorded extensively with various members who became jazz giants Stanley Clarke, Airto Moreira, Flora Purim.  Across 2 mp3 collections I have: Light as a feather, No Mystery, Return to Forever, Where Have I Known You Before, Waltz For Bill Evan, Romantic Warrior, Delphi Solos, Leprechaun, In Concert with Herbie Hancock. Stand alones: Return to Forever 1, My Spanish Heart, Dejavu 2 cd set. His work with Gary Burton is cream of the crop duets. As well a double cd of the recent reunion tour (gift from a fellow fan) Also a cd with Stan Getz.

The music goes from high energy jazz fusion, seductive jazz chamber music, fun interactions with Hancock. The latino influence is sometimes prime, other times non-existent. His solo work is sublime. He was a group leader who never dominated and gave everyone a chance to shine. I’ve always been amazed at his adaptability fitting in with Lionel Hampton as well as he did with his own fusion sound. A master musician worth diving into if you aren’t really into him.

Worn

‘Then a refract analysis is next. Once we have that data we can evaluate our position.’

P’rak watched J’hhon move back and forth. From the aft to the fore.

‘We don’t have much time.’

J’hhon rubbed the ridge between his eye nodes.

‘J’hhon, sir, we have to commence the procedure as soon as possible.’

‘I don’t want to act too hastily. What do we know about the area where the cos swirll had been noticed?’

‘Not a great deal. I can …’

‘Yes, check the files and see. Perhaps it is something we can handle with minimum use of energy. You know we have to notify Cenfrer Colmand before we initiate any exceptional probes.’

P’rak slithered back to his console. His frets punched in the command for more information.

‘Puter doesn’t have a great deal on this quadrant. Stable sun. Several planets, moons. Nothing out of the ordinary.’

‘Any with sufficient knowledge to establish a cos swirll?’

‘Hmm.’ He pushed away from the screen. ‘We’d have to hook up with Drletwa V to access further information. They might wonder why we want it?’

‘Tell them we are in the vicinity and want all the info before we proceed.’

‘You’ll have to come up with something better than that.’

‘Tell them the truth. We suspect a cos swirll and …’

‘Even the truth has worn out it’s welcome at Cenfrer Colmand. We’ll have to offer them something.’

‘Barter? Ore?’

‘Something like that I’m afraid.’

‘Shittt. We don’t have much to offer anyone.’

‘Doesn’t have to be much.’

J’hhon began his uncertain pacing around the tiny cockpit. ‘I have it. Do we still have any of the stim-s.d. A little mind vacation could be most welcome to them.’

‘I’ll check below sir. There should be some but …’

‘But what …’

‘Nothing, sir. Nothing.’

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

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June 9-10: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 – flight & hotel booked already

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check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

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#DadBodHot 2

One of the issues Andrew Gurza frequently address in his Disability After Dark podcasts is how we view our bodies, particularly as being attractive, as well as being judged attractive. One of ‘draws’ to dark room sex, glory hole sex, is that one reduces bodies to very specific parts in which attractiveness is no longer an issue. A mouth is never too old with no face, a cock with no overweight body to distract is always perfect.

In Andrew’s case it is clearly having a body that doesn’t fit into, or even get represented, in most queer contexts. Part of his mission to change that & in doing so he’s had to face how he feels about his body. We grow up in a culture were actually liking one’s body is seen as egotistical, conceited. Everyone I know wants to lose another five pounds.

I don’t think I’ve ever not had free-weights of some sort in my various homes. There were times when I worked at working out – had weight benches that also made for great clothes drying racks. I wanted to look as good as I thought I was supposed to look for others to find me hot. It never happened.

I was in my late 20’s when I moved to Toronto, so by then I was already over the hill for 80% of gay men – plus I wasn’t dark or hairy – increasing that % to 85, then add my being clean sober by 30 & I was left with maybe 5% of gay men who might find me at all sexually viable – at the best of times.

Today I know that much of my discontent with my body comes from insidious cultural attitudes about fitness & health, about age & market demographics. One of my Tumblr feeds covers a range of races & body types but the ones that get the most comments are the fittest. Older men are ‘fine’ when they have tats, piercings, body hair and six-packs, & oh yes usually sizeable packages.

I do find all those attributes attractive but I’m also ‘turned on’ by guys with bodies like mine – ordinary, average packaged, Dad bodies. The one thing you don’t get much of in photographs is personality – one has go by face (if there is one), setting (naked at a bar hoisting a glass of wine – no thanks) & clarity of image. If all the pics are out of focus chances are so are they. But that’s a topic for another blog post – playing to your target demographic. #DadBodHot

Listening to Andrew I’ve been able to look closer at how I feel about body types, my body type. I’ve taken steps (http://wp.me/p1RtxU-1Xs) in how I package my package thanks to Daily Jocks  https://dailyjocks.com – I may be the only one who sees my undies but that’s fine – if I look hot to myself then my % is improved already. The more comfortable I have become with the shape I’m in the more men I’ve met who are turned on by the shape I’m in.

 

Too Not Much

it would have been too much work

too much responsibility

there so many other things

I would rather do

it was enough to have the chance

I didn’t set out

with that in mind

so the fact that it didn’t happen

doesn’t bother me a bit

I had nothing to prove

my family is proud of me

they were thrilled I had the opportunity

they were not let down

when I didn’t get the win

they knew it would mean

I’d have less time for them

helping and growing with them

is more important

I am already blessed enough

my life is so full now

I couldn’t have taken on

more responsibility  more acclaim

I have too much going on

I have to find a way of doing less

not taking on more

no matter how profitable

or how much it might

enhance my reputation

I don’t need any more exposure

money is too much work to maintain

I’m happy to keep my life simple

there are those who thrive

on that sort of accomplishment

I’m not one of them

having this opportunity

confirmed that for me

I have too much of what I value

to care about winning

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

meandchap

kiss314257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_oon going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm start – Featuring Queen Sheba. Slam winner gets trip to Capturing Fire & maybe coffee with me in DC.games

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 9-10: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 – flight & hotel booked already

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

fec17-header

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November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

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money

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Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

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Taste Test

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks. This is the last of the 13 saṃghādisesas: 13 Not to spoil the confidence and the consideration that the people have for the dhamma.

Taste Test 

It was a mistake

to look at his music collection

I just prayed

that none of it would be used

as background music

tastes I don’t share

don’t care to share

his love of musicians

of songwriters

I don’t take seriously

safe banal tepid stuff

so middle-of-the-road

I’d want to hit the next telephone pole

rather than listen to it

 

his taste in music

came as a bit of a surprise

as we were compatible

in so many other ways

he asked me

was there something I’d like to hear

this is his favourite

am I familiar with it

and I said yes but let’s not bother

we don’t need distractions

which he agreed was a wise choice

 

I didn’t offer any opinion

didn’t denigrate his taste

or rather the lack there of

I wasn’t there for music appreciation

I didn’t intend to let anything

disturb

distract

from the momentum of the opportunity

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Re-created

Law 25: Recreate Yourself

this is how I started

a small fear filled child

a bit moved across Canada for a generation

a new home every year

each new home a new opportunity

but never enough time to develop

to make friends

finally settling

the only child

a small fear filled child

discovering things about himself

that weren’t what he observed

in other children

children with rough tumble values

gender roles unquestioned

reinforced by parental and scholastic approval

mine rarely reinforced

opting for invisibility

those moments when I was observed

winning an art prize

flunking miserably at math

art devalued

math venerated

the first invention

the arty poet uninterested in approval

bravado rather than conviction

the shield of music

flowed into the the drunk

the numbed to identity

the first man on man sex

wanting more

but with more to hide

inventing to we did drunk sex

so it doesn’t count

the writer published

the man escapes from

with his life

not another new world

once again the new face in town

remade into the timid bar hopper

manic dancer

reinvented as the sober housemate

the lover for life

the return to the word

the uneducated director

set designer lighting sound tech

discarded to be replaced

by the novelist poet

spoken-word performer

spun into the out spoken queer

This was an interesting law to work with – I did take it rather literally for a change – first by looking at the ways I was reinvented by the culture I was growing up in. There was a fair bit of moving until we settled in Sydney Nova Scotia. Even there we moved at least three times before my dad bought the house I grew up in. All that moving made it hard to learn how to interact with others.

I was also small, blond, a bit spoiled and fearful. My final height growth didn’t happen until after I finished high-school. I’ve written about my east coast growing up extensively but never from this particular point of view. Even then I did feel the pinch of never being the ‘boy’ my Dad would have liked – sporty – my younger brother took that role on.

I did want to be a writer from an early age but that was never seen as a viable or suitably masculine role for me & so it was never really encouraged. Learn to spell first was a frequent admonition. No one knew about spellcheck in those days. Oddly enough the ability to spell was seen as girly – maybe that was why I resisted it. Girls could be smart; guys could be dumb.

Things then that I didn’t really question but felt shame around – this cultural coding of what gender meant as a value judgement. All I knew was my fear at being found out, called out & mocked. Some of those fears were realized in high school being designated as a gearbox – one of those olden day terms for queer – fairy was also used but I preferred gearbox as it at least sounds a little butch, right? 🙂

This follows the changes in identity over the decades, the fearful drunk, the quiet rebel who was hidden but resolute all the same. Writing, painting where modes of expression that probably kept me alive. Same with drinking as other hidden gay guys I sort of knew killed themselves. I survived. Some of these changes are way out culture reinvents us from cute young thing to handsome older to doddering dirty old man.

One of the comments about my After The Falling chap book is that there was no clear through line – that each of the pieces, as well written as they were, came from different writers. Which to me says I have a multi-layered world view that reflects a more complex person than my image may project at any given time, or rather, than you may project on me at any given time.

The most recent re-invention is #DadBodHot.

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Lazarus Kiss.14

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others

and a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

*14*

Alex dug women, breasts and pussy. He’d wake up from dreams about them. The smell, the feel of them in his hands, the feel of their hands on him. He craved the taste of, the the feel of a woman on his tongue, the shudder of a woman’s skin as he did what he knew would make her shudder, make them gasp not to stop. At work during a rough shift he would only have to think of being with his girl Linda and feel re-energized. He could fuck her then twenty minutes later want her again.

He had been hit on by gay guys a few times in the past. Once had to deck a soccer goalie who was too persistent. As a result he lost a job but his sister, Cally, got him in at Story. A man had to learn to live with that sort of thing in this city, in this day and age. He wasn’t interested period. What gay guys did to each other didn’t bother him, as long as they left him alone he didn’t give a shit. If a guy didn’t like pussy it was like a guy not liking beer. He didn’t care.

So when he caught himself almost making a pass at a guy at Story he was shaken. He’d even checked to get the man’s name, Harris Stevens. He had never done that for any of the women he’d met at McBrick. He remembered the name too.

When he got home that night he’d been more energetic than usual with Linda and she liked it. Pushed him on in fact. Their sex took on a new energy and he proved himself the man of her wet dreams. He dug her harsh gasps as he drove himself into her.

Yet he found himself wondering what it would be like to be doing that to Harris. To have a man raking his back, pushing him deeper than he thought possible. Thoughts like that made him work harder to please Linda and she responded with equal vigor. It was the best sex he’d ever had.

The next afternoon he found himself walking along Church street. He felt men look at him. He didn’t like it. They were seeing what they wanted to do his body. He wanted to look back, to look at them, but they held no interest for him. The only man whose face and body that came to him was Harris.

It wasn’t as if Harris had such a great body. Soft in fact. Not too hairy, he hoped. He would catch himself thinking like this at work. When he was with Linda he proved once more that he was a man. A raving, slobbering, cave man heterosexual.

One night he let a female customer pick him up. There was danger. Something the staff weren’t supposed to do but she smelled too good. Nice breasts and her pussy was crazy powerful. They went out behind the bar to do it. Met in the alley under the back patio and she had her hands on his cock so fast he nearly came.

Her tiny skirt hitched up a like belt and her panties an anklet as he plowed into her, shoving her up the dirty wall behind them, hearing cars in the street, conversation from the Story back patio overhead. At any time a light could have come on. She was hot. He met her heat with his. She tipped well too and for the rest of the night he had her smell on him. Each time he took a whizz he could smell her, smell sex.

When he got home he jumped into the shower because Linda could smell sex on him. If he even played with himself she could smell it on his hands.

When he went to work he was anxious to meet Harris again. He had promised to be there. The sexual tension increased and each night Linda was rewarded with the release of his unfulfilled expectations.

That morning when he woke he knew that tonight would be the one. It had to be. The guy would be there. He’d have to be ready. He had vague notions of what men did. It was pretty much what he did with women.

He did an internet search for gay porn. There was lots but he couldn’t look at any one for more than a minute. The fevered action made him nervous. None of it was hot merely busy. There was no kissing, only cocks, mouths. Too young.

He found sites of older guys, “bears,” but these had a slant that was mean, nipples with bizarre clamps on them, leather, half masks. No, this isn’t what he wanted. This wouldn’t work even with women. Sure he was a sex pig but he liked his sex normal. If this was what that Harris expected then it wasn’t going to happen.

Finally, under “vanilla,” he tried a simple scene. Two men meeting on the street. Average looking, unshaved, guys. They talked briefly. The scene jumped to a living room where they are having a beer. Yeah, that’d work. Hands on thighs and they were kissing. Flies down and cocks out. He had to stop. Cocks ruined it. He was enjoying it till cocks came out.

He watched the start a few times. Learning what to do. Eventually he let it go past getting cocks out. Fuck these guys had big dicks. Whose mouth was that wide? Did they have to do special training to get a dick that size into their mouths. But they did it. Linda wasn’t into giving him head. Her mouth never felt big enough for his cock. Not that it was large as these. Did the screen add weight to cock like it did to faces.

He bookmarked it, Linda would enjoy it. Yeah, he’d see if gay porn got her off at all. If guys are into two women making out might be the reverse could be true.

When Linda got home from work Alex decided not to waste that time on internet porn and got right down to the basics. A slow exploration on the edge of the sink that lead into the shower with her and finally on to the bed. If he worked off this edge urge when Harris showed up at Story he’d have no energy or interest. Nip it in the bud.

He let Linda ride him and while she did, he played with her nipples, using his fingers like the clamps he’d seen online.

“Good, baby? You dig dat don’ch ya.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes held his. She reached down and pinched his nipples. She’d never done that before. Her fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Yeah. harder.” He gasped. She obliged and he came. “On m’ face. Smother me wid love.”

She slid off his cock and to his face. He loved the smell of her pussy after he’d been fucking her. As she inched back and forth he pulled off the condom. He was still hard.

His tongue moved slow the way he knew worked best for her. Biting gently. He could tell she was almost there. He craned his mouth a little further along her ass crack and licked her butt hole. An action he knew would send her over the edge, but he only did it on special occasions. She shuddered and gipped his head. He wondered what it would be like to have a man’s tongue do that to him

His back arched, lifting him off the bed. He shot off again without being touched. It felt like his heart had stopped and he blacked out for a moment. He’d have no energy to be interested in anyone let alone this Harris guy.

Another shower and he raced off to work.  He arrived right on time at Story. No sign of Harris.

“Expecting another lady tipper.” Cally teased him.

“Sis, one good tip deserves another.” Alex snorted. He could still taste Linda on his tongue. He hoped he didn’t have box breath.

The hot humid night kept him pretty busy. Side patio, front patio, main house, pool room and the upstairs quiet lounge with it’s back patio. One of those nights when they need extra hands.

At around seven he saw Harris’s pal arrive with a woman he didn’t guess he’d ever seen before. She was hot. They took a table on the upstairs patio. The pal ordered them drinks and left her. The pal met Harris at the entrance when he arrived about fifteen minutes later and they got a table in the main house.

Alex rushed over to wipe that table down. Made eye contact with Harris.

“How are you gents t’night?”

“Fine.” Harris seemed embarrassed.

A couple of other tables emptied and he had to clear them. He was disappointed. After all this expectation he had hoped for more of a reception. That Harris would acknowledge him somehow. But how. With a pat on his ass?

Once drinks and sweet potato fries were served the pal went upstairs.

Alex went directly to the table. “ ‘Bout last week …”

“You remember that do you?”
“Fer sure.”

“I’ve been thinking about it myself. I’m heterosexual.”

“I reckon as much. I don’t know what made me …. ”

“Here’s my number. Call me.”

Alex grabbed the number and shoved it in his pocket. “I will. We c’n meet fer coffee or sometin’.”

“Yeah I think I’d like that. To see you in broad daylight.”

“Tables upstairs Alex.” a server reminded him.

His legs were unsteady as he went up the stairs. He had almost shot off when Harris gave him his number. Linda would be in for it when he got home tonight.

 

Can’t wait to read the whole thing? order the PDF for $5.00 – paypal.me/TOpoet – say you want Kiss

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Julie Driscoll

Julie Driscoll with Brian Auger and the Trinity was an almost sensation with their amazing pop/jazz sound. A clear precursor for groups like the Eurythmics. Julie was too fashionable for critics to take seriously & the music was too jazzy for the youth market it was aimed at. Auger had, & continues to have, a strong jazz following before & after his work with Driscoll.

The first lp Open was one side jazz & the other side pop. Their version of Season of the Witch is sublime. Auger’s sound is a more propulsive Jimmy Smith/Wes Montgomery. The lp was a minor sensation with critics taking shots at her looks & deriding her limited vocal ability.

This was followed by the double Streetnoise – the same mix of fine jazz instrumentals, poetical originals & excellent covers. Her Light My Fire is great. I loved this lp & was eager to replace it with mp3. As my taste aged I enjoyed the jazz more & more too. Once again critics weren’t happy with her prettiness or their musical pretentiousness. How dare a rock group do material about Czechoslovakia as well as cover American pop.

Open, Streetnoise is on an mp3 collection along with a live set at the Piper Club – the live set sound isn’t great but for fans it is a chance to hear them live. As usual this mp3 collection mixes eras & styles. So there is some Anita Baker: The Songstress, Rapture. Giving You The Best I’ve Got. Romanic sexy r’n’b soul. A bit too syrupy for me. Barbra Lewis Hits collection. Hello Stranger has to be one of the creepiest songs but her voice is marvellous & the songs are great. A good friend of mine had this on lp & I made a cassette copy. Eventually upgraded to mp3.

Finally in this collection is Emmy Rossum: Inside Out. SYTYCD used her Slow Me Down for a routine. I had the warms for the male dancer in it & the song itself had a sweet propulsion I enjoyed. I made a note of the singer & found it on iTunes. This is one of the ways I discover newer music. Emma has a pleasant voice. The songs are forgettable for the most part but she’s no better worse than Julie Driscoll just not as jazzy.

Swirll

P’rak motioned for J’hhon to look at the vidscreen.

‘What do you make of this?’

‘Looks like a cos swirll. We get a lot of them in this quadrant.’

‘Can we get a refract analysis of it.’

‘Why? Check the other instruments first. It takes more energy than we can spare for a full orb to do a refract analysis.’

P’rak slid away from the aft instrument panel and back to his station on the deck. J’hhon was never easy to predict. But something in his fib’ra’tor told him this wasn’t a mere cos swirll. It was something more. He ran the various sensors over the swirll but they produced the expected results. Nothing to call for more serious consideration. Cos swirlls were daily, hourly events that were as common as stars.

‘Find anything?’

‘’Nope. Guess you’re right J’hhon.’

‘You don’t sound so sure. You’re not an mpatht and haven’t told me you are one have you.’

‘Please I have enough problems in my life without that too. No but …’

‘But what?’

‘I get a feeling here. You know. Don’t you think it odd that there’d be a cos swirll so close to a planet with moons?’

‘Hmm. Check with puter first. See what the system tells us about the frequency of such events.’

‘I’ll get on it right away.’

‘Thanks for paying attention to little things P’rak.’

P’rak was astonished. J’hhon was sincere in his thanks. So progress was being made after all.

The puter files found several references to such planetary cos swirlls and even one that involved moons. But they were always subterfuge, camouflage of sort sort.

‘Sir. J’hhon this is more serious that a cos swirll. Puter says this configuration is never natural.’

J’hhon scanned the files.

‘Shit. Better get ready for some real work for a change.’

‘And about time.’

 

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

meandchap

kiss314257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_oon going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm start – Featuring Queen Sheba. Slam winner gets trip to Capturing Fire & maybe coffee with me in DC.games

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 9-10: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 – flight & hotel booked already

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

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https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

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Colloquium 2017

This year’s SpecFic spread its tentacles in a new location – 918 Bathurst Street. As long as it is within walking distance of both a subway station & a Starbucks I’m happy.

In her opening remarks for this years SpecFic Sandra Kasturi mentioned that the one complaint the consistently she gets is that there are too many ideas to deal with let alone process. Truer words are rarely spoken as the day’s presenters flooded 918 Bathurst with endless visions of the future & ideas about the present.

First presenter was Julie Czerneda: “It’s a Wrap, Folks” a talk about the writing process itself. How to end a story. She talked about some the traps: i.e. the wrap-up-every-thread ending. Some things can force an ending like word count, submission deadlines. A resolution is not necessarily the ending. Ending shouldn’t be a new plot point unless it is leading to a sequel. If you are having ending issue – ramp up the tension to force one.

She was followed by Robert Boyczuk: “Why You (Still) Can’t Teach Writing” a talk on the usefulness or uselessness of creative writing courses & workshops. One can learn structure & how to have a sharper critical eye but not how to be more creative. He feels sometimes writers spend more time in, looking for, or talking about workshops than they spend writing. My personal experience is often writers judge work by who you’ve studied with than the actual quality of the writing itself. The presentation turned into a discussion about editors & copy writers (maybe something for next year).

The morning sessions wrapped with Jason Taniguchi: “Long Ago and Far, Far Away: Falling Hard for Fictional Worlds” a talk about the lure of alien worlds. This was a great talk about what it takes to do successful world building – something that all writers need to know not just specfic writers. His list of elements included things like ‘it is spilling over with unique specific details’ ‘it has a sense of its own history.’ The importance of representation in world building is becoming more important – what races, genders are in your world? He felt things like Harry Potter or Hunger Games were markedly white & heterosexual.

Unfortunately the day was too damp cold & gloomy for patio lunching. Was glad to get some fresh air with a quick walk to the nearest Starbucks to reap the rewards of my bonus stars – stars it seems one earns merely by walking past a Starbucks – by the time I got back my microwaved sandwich was cool enough to eat.

After the lunch break Sandra read Madeline Ashby: “Abandon All Hope, Eh?: Lessons Learned from the Company Town Tour” – it raised questions such as ‘how can you impose borders on stolen land? utopian for who? the world you are happiest in may ‘not be the best possible world’ What is the future? M feels that to transform Canada we need to move away from resource based economy. We have a skewed sense of what progress really means – is it faster internet connection or being able to live without the internet? Madeline fell ill & couldn’t even Skype – now that’s ill.

This was followed by Vicki Clough: “Alternate Realities in Art” a look at how fine arts are creating a space for epic story telling. I say fine arts – i.e. painting, sculpture as opposed to illustrated novels. She used the work of Kent Monkman & Saya Woolfalk to explore how this is done. Kent reinterprets classic paintings by interjecting his alter ego Miss Chief Eagle Testickle into them; Saya tells the story of a species that switches between animal & plant. Kent’s inventiveness made me wonder if writers might be able to do the same thing – could I rewrite say David Copperfield & find a way to insert my p.o.v to add a layer of observational commentary: it was the best of TOpoet.ca and the worse of TOpoet.ca?
17554424_10210246166523198_864376003505417264_n

The day wrapped with keynote speaker Cory Doctorow “I Can’t Let You Do That Dave” a, for me, overly tech talk about the dangers of DRM coding that allows makers to control how their devices get used but which also comprises personal privacy & safety. Devices can be hijacked to attack their owners – car computers, thanks to DRM (I think) are vulnerable to 3rd party steering. He spoke directly & passionately about our right to control our data. Check out OpenMedia.ca for how to get involved in protecting our rights.

By the end of the day I was exhausted from sitting, listening & at times, even thinking. 918 was a good venue for the colloquium even though it didn’t appear to be at all accessible. Didn’t spot a wheelchair ramp, washrooms were down flights of stairs. Looking forward next years.

ps: in my loot bag: Playground of Lost Toys: ed Anderson/Pflug; Year’s Best Weird Fiction: ed Barron/Kelly; Buffalo Soldier: Broaddus; The Society of Experience: Cahill; Winter Tide: Emrys; Quaternity: Hoover; Proof of Concept: Jones; Those Who Make Us: ed Morris/Trembly; Dead Americans: Peek; Broken Baloons: Prussky; Lifeblood: Showalter; Dead Girls Don’t: Story; Blood & Water: Trenholm 🙂

Past Colloquium posts:

2014: Colloquium in the Round http://wp.me/p1RtxU-EW

2015: Up SpecFic Alleys: http://wp.me/p1RtxU-173

2016: Ghost in the Twitter Feed http://wp.me/p1RtxU-1F6

rough draft sample

Spoilers

boy gets girl

dog lives

monster vanquished

boy buys right girl

man repents

eviler spirits arise

escape succeeds

money isn’t enough

love conquers all

she feels complete in marriage

success isn’t everything

family is reunited

all is forgiven

things are never the same again

she knows better

he finds a purpose in self sacrifice

boy gets boy

dog learns a lesson

man rescued from loneliness by child

greed is punished

being pretty isn’t fulfilling

he didn’t really want her

the lame horse wins a race

he dies saving others

the truth remains hidden

it was all a dream

the boy was once a girl

there is no escaping

they were ghosts

drugs were a bad choice

bad guy repents

she was a princess all along

the villain was his father

the castle blows up

the space ship blows up

the race is won

marriage means more than career

he is a genius

the plants were evil

Satan is foiled

he walks again

she forgives her rapist

he sees the errors of his ways

his heart is ten times bigger

everyone is dead

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

meandchap

kiss314257567_1162384753819933_3271661288579707843_oon going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

April season 3 FINALS – Friday April 15th Buddies in Bad Times – early show – 7pm start – Featuring Queen Sheba. Slam winner gets trip to Capturing Fire & maybe coffee with me in DC.games

http://www.queerslam.com/season-3-dates.html

June 9-10-11: attending: Capturing Fire 2017 – flight & hotel booked already

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

fec17-header

https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

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http://nanowrimo.org/

money

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Entitlement

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks. Another of the 13 saṃghādisesas. 12. Not to reject admonishments made on his behaviour.. Like many of these this is an unfinished rough draft.

Entitlement

it didn’t matter to me

because of my entitlement

pronouns are irrelevant

but to some

every he his him

in a text is an attack

on their identity

they felt discounted distanced

I could think

don’t be such sensitive

cry babies

who feel every thing in life

that doesn’t kowtow to your comfort

is an attack on your sense of self

but I accept this sense

of being made invisible

being treated as a non-person

not included

not seeing yourself represented

in a meaningful respectful way

 

I grew up as a queer boy

who never saw otherness of any kind

represented except in a sneering way

that equated gay with feminine

setting the standard

that anything not masculine

was not valued

but because it’s irrelevant to me now

doesn’t keep me from respecting

its relevance to you

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Smooth Man

Law 24: Play the Perfect Courtier

Smooth

he says

you’re so smooth

as his runs his hands along stomach

I think

my belly isn’t flat enough

he says

you’re skin is so soft

so smooth

he is kissing me between his words

he turns me onto to my stomach

stroking my back

I can’t get over how smooth you are

how soft you are

he cups my ass cheeks

squeezes and parts them

I love your ass

firm and smooth

I’m not sure what to say

I don’t want to stop the flow of his words

the flow of his hands

I have been touching him too

he isn’t as smooth as I am

each time I start to reply

he kisses me

let me enjoy you

he says

I can’t tell you are enjoying me

you like my touch

yes I say

I love your ass he say

smooth firm

white

it is so white I bet it glows like the moon

it glows when you touch me

I say

he laughs a little

I can’t say

your skin is so black

it would feel weird

not that I am colour blind

but that isn’t what attracts me to him

it is his fascination for my skin

I never expected to be so fetishized

so sexualized

because of my skin color

because of my smoothness

I don’t see a reason

to turn this into a discussion

about race

I like to fuck white ass

he says

as he lubes my hole

I know

I tell him

you’ve told me that before

he slowly enters me

you like my black cock

you like it in you

yes I answer

you have a wonderful cock

I don’t tell him

it would be a wonderful cock in any color

I don’t tell him

how little I usually like getting fucked

I let him

I invite him

because his tells me

you skin is so amazing

a miracle

I love your ass

while he’s fucking me

I choose to believe him

This piece Law 24 springs from my real life – yes this is one of those autobiographic confessional pieces that people seem to consider ‘authentic’ poetry – only my confession isn’t all that emotionally demanding or deep – much like me 🙂 The notion of perfect courtier easily became what we say to get what we want.

In this case it was a guy I was seeing for a while & our interaction was pretty much as described here. I met him on a gay site – his ‘handle’ was blacktop4U. I clicked then moved on – I figured he was too young & too hung to be interested in me. But on many sites one can see who clicked on your profile & so he contacted me.

He was ultra eager but only interested in one thing – fucking. I invited him over. We met several times after that first encounter & then it ended – knowing too much & not enough at the same time. He was open about his immigrant experience – in particular his distain for other blacks who lacked his ‘class.’ I got bored of his racist biases & ended things. A nice package but to keep my interest I need the whole package not just one part of it. Unlike the poem I never did believe he cared for me as a person but as an ass to fuck. Caring for me as a person is part of the whole package.

He also refused to give me his phone # or even an email address in order to protect himself from identity theft. So we could only get in tough with each other if we both on line, on site, at the same time. His name changed from Rob to Ron to no name. What I call red flags. This was taking NSA too far.

This piece went through several revisions and title changes from the above first version. It is one of the laws that I’ve performed & it is in my chap book After The Falling.

This is the published version:

Man In The Moon

he says

you’re so smooth

he runs his hands

along my stomach

 

I think

my belly isn’t flat enough

 

he says

your skin is so soft

so smooth

he is kissing me between his words

he turns me onto to my stomach

stroking my back

I can’t get over how smooth you are

how soft you are

he cups my ass cheeks

squeezes and parts them

I love your ass

firm and smooth

 

I’m not sure what to say

I don’t want to stop

the flow of his words

the flow of his hands

I have been touching him too

he isn’t as smooth as I am

each time I start to reply

he kisses me

 

let me enjoy you

he says

I can tell you are enjoying me

you like my touch

 

yes I say

 

I love your ass he says

smooth firm warm

ivory heated by afternoon sun

it is so white I bet it glows

like the moon

 

it glows when you touch me

I say

 

he laughs a little

I like to be

the man in your moon

 

I can’t say

your skin is so black

it would feel weird

not that I am colour blind

but that isn’t what attracts me to him

it is his fascination for my skin

I never expected to be so fetishized

so sexualized

because of my skin colour

because of my smoothness

I don’t see a reason

to turn this into a discussion

about race

 

I like to fuck white ass

he says

as he lubes me

 

I know

I tell him

you’ve told me that before

 

he slowly enters me

you like my black cock

you like it in you

 

yes I answer

you have a wonderful cock

I don’t tell him

it would be a wonderful cock in any color

I don’t tell him

how little I usually like getting fucked

I let him

I invite him

because he tells me

you skin is so amazing

a miracle

I love your ass

 

while he’s fucking me

I choose to believe him

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet