Always

Always

the sex was good

but at this stage

for me

good wasn’t enough

I craved more than contact

 

he certainly enjoyed 

the flesh on flesh

but not nearly as much

as he enjoyed the download

the secret assignation 

his exploration of excitement

of things his wife didn’t provide

 

I was his walk on the wild side

that made the cultural box

he felt he had no way of avoiding

bearable

I was a non-threatening opportunity

that had nothing to do with me

as a person

as a spiritual entity

 

he only wanted the release

when he wanted it

his travel time here

often took more time

than we were actually together

time that was clearly

a vitally needed context

 

the sex was good

but for me

good wasn’t enough

I want desire

chemistry

there wasn’t enough chemistry 

for me to want more

not enough chemistry

to get an yen for him 

 

now to tell him

the next time he calls

and I know he will call

they always do


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36

36

cooperative doesn’t mean 

interested

supportive doesn’t mean 

approval

not argumentative doesn’t mean 

agreement

it’s like

I think vegetarianism is a viable choice

for those who make that decision

but doesn’t mean 

I’m going to become vegan


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Out With The Bathwater

Out With The Bathwater

he wanted to drink

my bathwater

or so he said

I never did take him up on it

 

if he had said that

after a few dates

I might have found it

appealing  almost flattering

but to start with that

was a bit much

 

it was the sort of

coming on too strong

I called ‘a red flag’

similar to sending a phone number

as the first message

not even a call me

or I liked your profile

I’m not going to call that number

 

he wanted to drink

my bathwater

when I asked him why

he said that it was pretty obvious

the water

was something that had touched

every inch of my body

the way he wished he could

I was amused

intrigued

 

all his pics were blurry

closeups of his nipples

I think

no face pic

 

I asked for a face photo

never heard back from him

I was going to take a bath

anyway


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Death By Proxy

Death By Proxy

I let death happen

by proxy

 

if I didn’t eat the meat

wear the shoes

would their treatment

become more humane

 

do I take a stand

no more meat

nothing with a face

search out alternatives

 

plants may have faces

that I don’t recognize

does that makes it fine

the air that I breathe

is teaming with life

the water I drink

is alive with microorganisms 

that may have faces

my vision isn’t that good

 

atomic microscopes

focus so finite 

I can’t recognize anything

but that jellyfish like shimmer

darting around other shimmers

as if afraid of being seen

shamed by our look

not ready for their close up

they aren’t animals

are they

 

is my decision that they don’t count

relevant to anything

other than another brick

in a sense of superiority

the smug comfort

of valuing all life

 

whereas people

like me who still eat meat

will always be ethically

self-indulgent creeps

who should be shamed

put to bed without any supper

or better yet

shot


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July 2019 Sneak Peek

First the June recap of my on line life 🙂 My fan base continues expanded slowly but surely. WordPress followers is up to 329 (5 new followers this past week), Twitter up to 219, & Tumblr is at 231. My WP hits topped 40 many days with a couple of 60 & one day 82! The day I re-posted 2015’s Porn Has Ruined My Sex Life https://wp.me/p1RtxU-3A0. I’ve started a systematic weekend reposting of my last trip to Cape Breton in 2012.

Coal Dusters continues to grow as I get nearer the end with 111,700 words posted so far, still about 30,000 words to go. Finally got to the mine cave-in. So much going on in this section I had to add more! In that first draft I didn’t really build much for Lillian to do – as I’ve been strengthening her character I needed to show her in this new light. Exciting finish will hopefully play out in July.

TV was diverting in June, besides the many movies we watch & endless documentaries I enjoyed the relaunched Project Runway – longer episodes, more interaction with the contestants by the judges & temper tantrums. We also saw more of the judges deliberations. I love the diversity & inclusivity of this show. I do wish they would have at least men’s wear challenge each season though.

Read The Frolic of the Beasts By Yukio Mishima, originally published in 1961 and available in English for the first time last year. Similar to The Sound of Waves but much darker. More blog posts about my love of Mishima: https://wp.me/p1RtxU-36t, https://wp.me/p1RtxU-qS.

Celebrated another birthday & bought myself a subtle Cashew top from Diop https://weardiop.com. Added Prince’s Originals to my music collect as well as Frank Zappa’s: The MOFO Project/Object – The Mother’s Freak Out plus a slew of extras. Help, I’m a rock 🙂 I already have this on CD but wanted the extras 🙂 Freak Out was quite influential on my creative sense of self stranded in the backwoods of Cape Breton. Listening to it bring back great memories.

July brings heat, I hope. My garden is taking jungle turn already thanks to the rain at night & sun in the day. My one Stratford excursion will be to see Gotthold Ephraim Lessing  ‘Nathan the Wise’ from 1783. I vaguely know the story but I have no idea what to expect. The Festival describes it as “rarely seen masterpiece of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment.” I hope it isn’t too educational 🙂

The Wednesday poetry chats for July & August will focus on my Brown Betty chapbook – all the pieces are about my growing up in Cape Breton. Thursday’s will contuse with new pieces inspired by the 227 Rules For Monks. Super sneak peek: August in Cape Breton 🙂

Measuring Up – A Cape Breton School Memory

I grew up

in a school system

where I learned 

I would never measure up

because I wasn’t smart enough

to memorize the times table

smart enough

to regurgitate passages of text books

when I wrote exams

even when I was right

I was given no credit

because my spelling was so wrong


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Out In The Open

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Out In The Open

I was hiding

my feelings from him

not hiding exactly

but not declaring them

not putting them into words

what was communicated in my touch

 

was that enough

did he

could he

read between the kisses

between my legs

 

was there enough

emotional import

in my smile

my eagerness

to convey 

what I was afraid 

to put into words

 

as I waited

for him to put into words

what I felt in his touch

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Sacred

Nothing Is Sacred

it’s not that I don’t know

but what I know isn’t relevant

to you

 

I’m not an explainer

what you want to understand about me

isn’t going to make any difference

 

what I don’t tell you

isn’t even a secret

it’s merely a boundary 

of how willing I am to trust you

 

I won’t even confirm

what you think you know

I have nothing more to tell you

not even why

 

each thing I say

makes it appear I’m open

for negotiation

that if you keep me talking

I‘ll tell you what you want to know

tell you some amazing realization 

that let’s you feel ah ah

now I have him

he’s in my control 

or he’s not so special after all

 

you were expecting something deeper

more profound

instead you are getting nothing

 

don’t forget

nothing is sacred
What is the difference been data & information, between truth & facts? Even data can be ignored if it doesn’t fit one’s deeply held religious beliefs. Accepting this has made it easier for me to keep my big mouth shut in many situations. When people ask for my option I know they ultimately want me to confirm what they already believe.

The theme of identity appears frequently in my poetry – what we think we know about each other, about the political scene, about greenhouse gas – issues we become invested in that give us a sense of definition in our own minds & in the eyes of each other. We are judged a much by our opinions as by our appearance, or our actions. Guilty even when proved innocent.

As I grow older life gets simpler the less I have to say. I have my opinions on religion – how easy it is to justify homophobia by using cherry-picked Bible quotes by people who brag about known g their Bible history – usually when they don’t know the history of the bible itself. But I choose not to wade into that morass – people who don’t want to listen are a waste of my time. I have more important things   to worry about – like what tee-shirt am I going to wear.

 

This piece is also about people who want to make sure you know just how more they know than you do. I do have a rather extensive file of trivia trapped in my brain than I can access quickly – ask me what I watched on TV yesterday & I may not know though 🙂 But I do know what tee-shirt I’m probably going to wear tomorrow. I’d rather be defined by what I wear anyway.


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Fault Finding

Fault Finding

what I let you to believe

isn’t necessarily true

you allow yourself be lead on

by your willingness 

to fill in the blanks 

with your own expectations

 

that resulted in this

misunderstanding

sure I could have pointed that out sooner

but you were so sure of yourself

contradicting you

seemed pointless

 

you can’t blame me

for you making it so easy

to lead you on

once I started

I couldn’t stop

you made no pause for me to stop

you took the wrong hint

ran with it

before I could stop you

and when I did

you were dumbfounded

refused to listen

you thought I was joking


now you know

I wasn’t to blame 

even if it was my fault


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Not Relevant

Not Relevant

why I lost interest

wasn’t relevant 

neither of us was that invested

or at least I wasn’t

he was a good technical fuck

he made it clear how much he enjoyed

the time we spent together

but as much as he filled me up

he never fulfilled me

he was chatty enough

but conversations went his way

he listened to his voice

his point of view

would ask me the same questions

give his answer

talk over mine

so I lost interest

 

I blocked him on dating sights

rather than go into why 

I lost interest

why I found his paranoia

around identity theft 

made me distrustful of him

he knew too much for the innocent

his racism couldn’t be confronted

as he’d merely repeat his view

as if I had said nothing

to call him out

meant that I was the racist

 

that was a few years ago

I heard nothing from him

then one day there he was

on my door step

having changed his online identity

he’d made contact with me

never let on who he was

did a few things differently

gave me his email

which he’d never done before

though I still didn’t know his real name

the date was set

and there he was

with a slightly smug smile

 

I wasn’t flattered

but was amused

he was still a good technical fuck

friendly enough

not a listener

talked over my replies

to questions he’d asked 

when he left

I blocked him again

somethings don’t change

and he was one of them


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Sleep Over

Sleep Over

no

I am not sleeping over

yes

I had a good time

a great time

I dig you

but to sleep over

is more of a commitment

than I’m ready for

besides

I don’t think I could sleep

with you so near

with you in bed

beside me

it’s challenging enough

to sleep with someone in the same room

let alone in the same bed

 

no

I doubt if I’ll ever sleep over

not if you expect

to get any sleep

I’ve tried to sleep, & by sleep I mean sleep not sex, with sex partners. I could doze off but it was not a deep sleep. When my partner & I first meet we did try sleeping in the same bed but after a week or so of crappy sleep we gave up. It wasn’t an issue for me – my parents had separate bedrooms for years. My mother was an owl – worked around the house at night, usually getting up around noon. My Dad was a sparrow up every morning. He would get us off to school, & when I was old enough that duty fell to me (but that’s another story).

I was involved in pharmaceutical drug testing for many years. The studies were always on location. There could be a group of up to 40 people, sleeping in the same room, usually in bunk beds. At one location there would be other studies at the same time so there could be up to 100 guys bunked in a room. (Women had their own sleep quarters). I did learn to sleep okay under those conditions.

I developed sleeping strategies – ear plugs, lavender infused handkerchief, restful music on my iPod. Sleeping whenever we weren’t being fed, or giving blood samples. Trust me the pay was good & the eye candy was always a bonus. But after a weekend or week or even, in a few cases, a month of a study I longed for the privacy of my own bed.

Traveling isn’t too bad. My first night in a hotel bed can be a bit restless but the rest of the nights I’m out like a light. I also use the above sleep tactics to help on that first night. 

None of the guys I am seeing have indicated that a sleep over would be welcome. Some of them would find it hard to explain a night away to their wives anyway. Others work shifts. None of them has the same sleep pattern as mine. Being in bed, to sleep, by 10:30 strikes them as puritanical. 


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