A Nod To The Numb

A Nod To The Numb

in the club

the music was so loud

it nodded your head for you

it was like walking into

a room of parrots

each head bobbing

<>

men moved

from perch to perch

eyes dart for eyes to lock on to

conversation was nearly impossible

to shout

made what was said

sound either angry

or desperate

<>

with every nod of the head

it was hard to tell

what the response was 

meant to signal

yeah let’s go

or get lost

<>

I left the cage

unsatisfied

by any of these

nodding acquaintances

Yes this is based on real experience. One that I repeated more times than I care to recall. I know many gay men went though, & still go through, this conundrum though the venue has pretty much changed from the club to the internet. I know of men who get trapped in the endless scroll & hunt through apps in search for the elusive.

Businesses built on hope will fail if they fulfill that hope. As long as customers hope to get lucky they stick around & drink. The sooner they get lucky the sooner they leave. I can remember going out to my favourite – no not favourite but – well I’m not sure what to call the gay dance club I frequented the most often – getting dressed, picking the right jeans, t-shirt. Juggling the right time to arrive & leaving sweaty from dance & reeking of smoke in the morning. On line one does have some control over the music & how loud it is.

At least on line there is no last call rush to connect 🙂 Usually no icky slippery bathroom floors either. Pictures on line often represent the profile one clicks on, but just as often they are photoshop fantasy or ten years old or etc. Even in person one may not being getting what one sees. Bar lighting is designed to hide not accentuate. There is also the distortion of booze goggles. lol.

Starting next Wednesday & for the next several weeks I’ll be giving the Monks a rest. I’ll be doing a series of Summer Reflections in which I ponder some of the shallower mysteries of life.


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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

in the first message

or 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

or close ups of his nipples

no face pic

<>

I asked for a face photo

never heard back from him

The on-line hook-up world is full of every fetish you can imagine. Obviously I know more about the ‘gay’ male faction but am sure this array of kink is found to the same degree in the hetero scene. Most sites are full of vanilla guys with a dash of leather, s&m, b&d & there some sites are devoted to specific types of play or types of men: bears, older, black – so you can narrow focus.

Profile info usually includes what sort of play the person is interested in & I, unlike many, read that section of a profile (after I check out their hight 🙂 ) Even profile nicknames tell me enough: PoppersRus – is not for me. If approached I make it clear that, based on their interests, we aren’t a good match. Some guys get a bit huffy mind you as if my not being interested in x is judging them. Whatever. If you want to, say, dress as a baby including a diaper, that’s fine by me but I’m not interested – my lack of interest is not a sign of disapproval.

This piece is based on a couple of actual non-encounters. I am perhaps more cautious than some, mind you, but some first contacts don’t even get responded too. Bathwater Jim did a reply though because his (I assume it was a man) approach was novel enough to warrant that much. The reply turned into one of those corny dating book pick-up lines. ‘if I told you you had beautiful body would you hold it against me?’

The anonymity of the internet allows people to approach strangers in ways they probably wouldn’t in person. It’s easy to brave when both parties are faceless, voiceless. I enjoy profile pics but know that with the right angle, lighting & photoshop anyone can be larger than life. 

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Ghost of a Chance

Has this ever happened to you? It’s a bitterly cold, but dry, night & you’re just relaxing after supper & checking your email when the phone rings. Oh yes, rings, my landline. How quaint, a landline. I answer & it is a fwb ghost from the past. He was in the neighbourhood & could we meet for a chat. I think a moment & say sure – in five minutes at the Greenwood Station.

I get dressed, walk over & he’s pacing, masked. in front on the station. I recognize him by the pace & the hefty backpack that was his trademark style when we first met some, I’d say, nearly twenty years ago. We do a loop south down one block & up the next & back to the station.

We first the ‘catch up’ – he’s in the same profession but now in the private sector – from Crown Prosecutor to criminal lawyer for hire. He called on a whim, a polite term for ‘horny’ & had been meaning to call me for some time now & felt this was the right time. He apologized for our last conversation, which I didn’t recall at all, (but which I did blog about) & also for the way things ended many years ago, which was essentially him disappearing.

https://topoet.ca/2015/05/08/the-ghost/

He wants to renew our sexual acquaintance. I am flattered but not that interested. There other men whom I have been unable to see thanks covid who I would much rather renew acquaintances with 🙂 Being the polite Canadian & feeling a little sorry for him I say I’ll think about it. He wants to drop by now that he’s in the neighbourhood. I firmly decline & we part company.

An hour or so later he calls again to apologize for coming on so strong earlier. I am flattered but indifferent. Beside, to me, this is a red flag of neediness. I say no problem & agree that he can me later in the week, knowing that if he sticks to his usual form I’ll hear from him in 2025 at the earliest.

Boo Hoo Hoo

the fact is I don’t care

I know this comes as a surprise 

to make matters worse 

I never did care

I listened out of politeness

struck the right pose of concern

a sweet smile of encouragement

my look of worried affection

that you found so comforting

allowed you to feel cared for

that someone loves you

but to be honest

I never gave a shit

about your tedious victories

good job reviews weight loss 

or whatever cheered you up that day

I also never gave a shit about

your weary tribulations either

that diagnoses 

that lost wallet

replacing all your credit cards and ids

oh boo hoo hoo

stop acting so shocked

life happens to poor little you

stop dragging your tired trite daily events

in front of me

the thought of me hearing about them

puts me to sleep

the sleep of the righteous

<>

I fake human compassion

only too well 

when I want to slap you

up the side of the life

take that drivel somewhere else 

the sex isn’t worth it

can’t remember if it ever was

so please shut the fuck up 

I don’t care

no one does

oh boo hoo hoo

<>

that’s not what you expected to hear

it’s not my worry 

that your cellphone headset never worked right

that your mother is dying

that you love those new shoes

that you had some deep insight 

to your inner tender core

you feel on top of the world

getting ahead of the curve

whatever

so whoop-de-do

who gives a flying fuck

certainly not me

so wake up and smell me gone

oh boo hoo hoo

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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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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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Out With The Bathwater

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Out With The Bathwater

he wanted to drink

my bath water

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 call ‘a red flag’

similar to sending a phone number

in the first message

or 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 bath water

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

his pics were blurry

close ups of his nipples

what I assumed was his dick

no face pic

I asked for a face pic

never heard back from him

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet 

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

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El segundo primer beso

El segundo primer beso

I knew that I missed your kiss

but I didn’t realize

how much I needed it

 

that came as a surprise

much like the moment

when it was clear

that our last kiss

was almost the last kiss

 

maybe neither us knew

it was to be the last for awhile

it might have a lasting memory 

until I had that dream of you

 

we hadn’t spoken for two years

after that kiss

not that it ended in anger

it just ended

 

first I stumbled upon

a short clip from a porno

a Latino man 

with a beautiful face

talking Portuguese to the camera

while playing with his dick

his eyes

his smile

his sexual eagerness

was so much you

though you spoke Spanish

but that look

that invitation

is the same in any language

 

then I had a dream

of you emotionally hurting

I dreamt it twice more 

before I had to reach out 

 

we reconnected shyly

gladly

then hungry for that first kiss

deeper

than the memory of the last

‘Based on a true story’ 🙂 One of the dumbest things I ever did was when I stopped seeing  … um … let’s call him Beso to keep it simple. I’d meet him on line & our first meeting was chaste & our second was incendiary. His work shifts made it difficult for us to see each regularly so each time was special. He’d even been to my house for supper a few times. Then it ended without warning.

 

Being an all or nothing guy I unfriended him etc. But I couldn’t get him out of mind. He was one of the  few men who I wrote poems for/about. As this piece says nothing happened but it just ended. The porno clip is fact – I watched it several times & each time Beso haunted me. 

I had that dream. I doubt if I would have recontacted him without the dreams. I friended him again on FB, asked if he wanted to meet up to catch up. We met and went for coffee & creme caramel. We came back to my house and boom – incendiary. Some thing sin his life had changed: work etc. But the chemistry hadn’t changed.

I could have let my stubbornness keep us apart forever. The thought of dying & never seeing him again did away with that stubbornness. Life is short enough as it is & inviting as much joy into as one can makes perfect sense. Even if that joy doesn’t fulfill all exceptions what it does fulfill is enough & always leaves me wanting more. 

 


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No Blow

No Blow

so this is how it ends

no bang

no whimper

but with a snort

two lines of blow

careful spread 

on your cell phone screen

 

that you did 

this sort of thing

didn’t bother me particularly

as long as you did it

without me as an audience

as long as you did it

outside of my residence

 

when you aren’t here

it’s not a part of my life

not a part of our play

our play is best confined

to the two of us

substances

are a third party

that quickly becomes the focus

it takes over

demands that whatever else might happen

it is the only thing that counts

 

me being in the room

was a distraction

you being in the room

was now a disappointment

and when you left

I was relieved to see you go

not wishing you could stay longer

 

those two lines

closed a door

never open to you again


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My Time

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks. Who knew the simple life could be so complex. This another of the 92 pācittiyas.

My Time

I am a creature of routine

no matter how hot the guy

I am unavailable at certain times

often the only time they are free

which they take personally

even though all we know

about each other are profile pics

what we claim our likes are

 

they act as if my time boundary

is playing hard to get

or just playing them

a sign I’m not really interested

all I want is their desire

not their bodies

 

one guy said ‘if you’re going to be that way

good luck because you’ll need it’

as if my schedule 

was a character fault

one called me inflexible

though I had suggested other times

other days

his inflexibility was of no concern to him

whereas mine was arbitrary

whatever 

I have a life

I don’t set it aside for dick

or perhaps they see it

as control

that I am making it clear

I am the dominant, the top,

not some submissive bottom bitch

gaping eager for their randy visit

 

even I am

it’s still my time

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Served

samprules2

Working through the  227 Rules For Monks.

Who knew the simple life could be so complex.

Served

His texts

unpredictable

are always welcome

affectionate sexy and energetic

generous lingering and infrequent

 

otherwise he is average

looks – okay

dick – average

married and working

looking for the occasional dick

 

I usually say sure

though sometimes

the unpredictable falls

when I’ve already made a date

with someone more predictable

also affectionate sexy and energetic

a delicate delicious choice

 

having said yes to one

do I agree to another

each at a different time of the day

do I want to risk

the law of diminishing returns

or is that self-slut-shaming

 

one a day satisfies

the physical craving

the opportunity for two

satisfies the ego

but first come first served

is the best policy

which satisfies morality

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