Sunday, December 11, 2011

Gaston Godin


Gaston Godin

Queer Quilty
Vivian Darkbloom
Donny Haze
Donny Dazed
Gaston Godin
Interior Décor
Death in Naples

Queer Quilty

Quilty was much—
More queer than just
A three dollar bill

He had so many—
Avatars that it made
My asshole hurt

He had a lot in—
Common like being size
And chicken queens

That’s why we fought—
Over Donny Haze’s body
So much of the time

Vivian Darkbloom

The usual Dominatrix—
With her black leather
Swank stylish fashions

Her whips & chains—
Her provocative sneer
And sharp little teeth

Her wicked dildo—
Set to Vibrato Stun
Just like a Taser gun

She was precognitive—
A new trick she says:
Mind if I sample him?

Donny Haze

I was so very proud—
Of myself, I’d stolen the
Honey of his Spasm

No harm done at all—
To the morals of a minor
He pretended to sleep

He’d poured, squirted—
Honey, molasses, foaming
Champagne out of him

His bulging, wrinkled—
Soft, tender scrotum so
Absolutely drained dry

Donny Dazed

How ignoble & sinful—
Getting him so loaded
On booze, weed, coke

Look, he’s still so—
High he’s floating in bed
No will, no life of his own

I’m simply transmogrified—
By what I’ve created the
Boy who’s now a grown man

I adore him so awfully—
Horribly feeling him up after
His transmigration into dick

Gaston Godin

Both Gaston and I—
Shared our own secrets from
The burghers of Beardsley

Gaston knew & I knew—
That we both knew things
About each other

Curious, burlesque things—
That none of the other polite
Beardsleyans knew, my dear

It simplified things—
And made our friendship
Much more relaxed

Interior Décor

The neighborhood boys—
Did burlesque downstairs
In Gaston’s garret basement

An orientally furnished den—
Carpets on the walls that
Camouflaged hot-water pipes

He stuffed them to the gills—
With fancy chocolates filled
With fine real liqueurs inside

Andre Gide, Tchaïkovsky—
Nijinsky all thighs, fig leaves
Cavorting obscenely downstairs

Death in Naples

Gaston was like me—
Devoid of any talent
Whatsoever, a true loser

A mediocre teacher—
A worthless scholar and
A glum repulsive old queer

The neighbors liked him—
All the young boys loved him
He was fooling everybody

He was somber and sad—
Full of stoic world-weariness
A bachelor in Beardsley

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