collar up
coolin’ into the club
shit-eatin’ grin
“hey man,
where’d you and Carla go?”
“to my apartment…
showed her my stamp
collection”
“you dog…
and back for more?”
waiting in line
stepping up
straddling the porcelain pit
smell of urine
and cigarette smoke
overlap stale beer breath
Camel™ filter for a target
pressing my nose
to the cold brown tile
eyes straight ahead
don’t want anyone
to think i’m a gazer
an eternal minute
feeling impatient eyes
lasering holes in my back
quiet screams out
he can’t prime the pump
guy to the left
makes a merciful flush
camouflaging my failure
my tool’s not Hughes™
but it’s Rigid™ and Craftsman™
serviced the engines
of many a fine model
so if you’re a faggot
and looking
don’t laugh…
your mother sure didn’t
fake shake
and a zip
clear my throat
deepen my voice
“damned beer
piss one out
pay for another”
combing my hair
perfect
mounting a barstool
like James Dean in Giant
i smile at the barmaid
um, um
beautiful blue eyes
soft, luscious lips
round, smooth ass
ripe melon tits
“my sign?
slippery when wet,
how ‘bout you?
there’s a full moon
on the beach
tonight and…”
Norfolk, Virginia ‘87 |
