Friday, April 26, 2013

Wasted

he’s such a pain out there on the asphalt puking
we’re so buff sunscreened sleek ready for Gay Pride
junked-up scarecrow tinder box of a geezer dumpster crazy
sort of guy who doesn’t take his meds piss-stained and mumbling
humping the roughcast a creature of brownsites
blackouts out of style out of touch out of mind
nothing he knows counts nothing he’s done’s remembered
no one he’s fucked survived to tell the tale
bones all poking out angular chest scars heart brain scars
dick a dried up stem of last year’s jack-o’-lantern

he blinks and wheezes stares and spits
scratches his balls belches a crazy laugh

I’m outta here

like a landmine he ruptures the smooth deathscape
of August afternoon one fiery ejaculation shot across the ecliptic
stallions aflame an Apollo with the balls to be so old
so gaunt distended crazy so totally uncool

we reach out for blessing jerk back
jerk off thick gobs of blood and cinders
like somebody deepthroated a red-hot chisel
ecstasy jismed out of sight out of it totally
leaving us standard deviation gays
stranded in the dark of too much light

Elijah’s come and gone

--Robert F. Gross (reposted by Robert's kind permission from www.boyslutpublications.com, April 25, 2013)

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