I don’t care what they claim. Flange or not, last night you came and shot your glass butt plug across the room. “Watch what you’re doing there,” my grandma would say. “You could put someone’s eye out with that thing!” Or maybe just scare your yippy dog. Tonight, we reload!
Wednesday, December 9th, 2009
I.
The trick in autumn
Is removing more clothes. The
treat is obvious.
II.
Your parents wonder
why your hair is full of leaves.
So are my boxers.
III.
Mice in the attic
I pause, mid-stroke, listening.
You protest. They gnaw.
IV.
I sip hot cider.
You sigh, rope binding your breasts.
How ‘bout them apples?
V.
So many leaves to rake.
You bend, your ass tight in jeans.
This can wait. Let’s fuck.
VI.
The time changes. One
hour extra, one hour repeats.
Get naked. Fall back.
Sit just there and pull your knees apart. Let me see your cunt, pink brown rose, colors changing as your lips puff up, your emptiness oozing. Let me draw it, photograph it, smell lick poke it with fingers, prod it with something blunt. Wait. I think it smiled at me.
Sunday, October 18th, 2009
There! The cold air arrived and I know that I won’t see your feet bare again until next June. I resign myself to your socks, watching TV, nestled between the covers in our bed, those fuzzy feet hoisted over your shoulders, tied to the headboard, wool warm and toes curling.
Thursday, October 15th, 2009
I needed you last night. Where were you? Why didn’t you find me, come get between me and the TV, peel off your Threadless tee, unzip my jeans, take out my cock and lick the head, turning me, turning me until my arching back was facing that stupid, stupid game.
Wednesday, September 30th, 2009
The maple leaves here have already started changing colors. Reds, oranges… we see outbreaks of fiery hue poking through the still green oaks and pines. The oaks? They’re waiting, content for now to watch me kneel in front of you, lower your pants… then drop an acorn on my head.
Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009
Go on. Bleed on me. Take me in and dowse fluid with sticky fluid. Do your worst. I know it showers off without the slightest hint of teeth marks, so there’s no way I’m avoiding you for days. Let’s add sweat and lube and whatever comes. Damn the sheets anyway!
Sunday, September 20th, 2009