even in the dark
both of us twirling
falling on the
wet grass to laugh
at
the fustiness
the dust
like the bags
of eyes and cement
still in the garage
platonic love
sounds so lame
perhaps that
is how
the primprime
and proper primping prim
pimping love
but i doubt it
having had
my brains
fucked until i bled
by the primprime
and proper primping prim
still,
pimping the word platonic
is like eating
eating stale lettuce
or a roach
crawling and alive…
.
.
so label it thusly…
.
little voices, little rooms
fantasy is not a crime
it’s fiction
so go
fuck your
many selves
instead of having sex
with them
i write poetry
you won’t think
it proper
fantasy being
so far from
experience
it might as well
be some other sun
these are gay boys
does that make them
different
only if they’re
from the street
having sold themselves
and all their holes
the biggest hole
like a black hole
at the center
of any sucking galaxy
so, yeah, that
makes them
different
so consider this
in school
they are total failures
in their brooding
black leather jackets
with the hand cuffs
dangling from
a belt and ass
ass ass ass
where they have never
felt obliged
to write a thing
clenched in the jaws
of desks
i do it
to tease them
to taunt them
to throw it back
in their faces
sons and lovers
being english
i do it
to show them the
power of writing
and the rage and sweat
and tumble
of poetry
and so what do they
exactly do with
that
all i can say is
the house is quiet
and they are
absorbed and writing
furiously
on their iPads
that they could write such things
such things that
upset the horses
was power
it’s about the power
the power
of even writing
anonymously
which i encourage
having many theories
om formal
education and how
it leaves them marginalized
but i will drag them
by their cocks back
i care more
about them
not your rules
but the rules of
taking poetry
by the horns
than your
whipping of
their flesh
with propriety
sex is just a tool
they are always learning
