Poems for the Wilde Boyz
___________________________
The Crucifix
Radiance
Orizaba
His Ribs
The Underwear
Thru the Keyhole
Self Portrait as Bette Davis in Contempt
Despite Yolanda
The Vampire’s Lover
_______________________
The Crucifix
—for Alex Dimitrov
he didn’t come easy—
it was more like an awful
excruciating crucifixion
sometimes it would—
get twisted around his
neck and he’d choke
not as much as me—
gagging and trying to
keep communion down
after unzipping him—
letting him nail me to
the ceiling with it
then him playing—
lazarus & me raising
him from the dead
Radiance
—for Alex Dimitrov
even tho his eyes—
were brown at night they’d
ooze deepest lavender
i wondered if he were—
seeing what i was seeing
but he’d squeeze them shut
i had pry them open—
with a crowbar just to see
the flame that turned me on
Orizaba
—for Alex Dimitrov
below deck the kid—
who Hart Crane wanted
rebuffed him & beat him up
once was enough—
the kid took the gringo’s
money begrudgingly
but crane was drunk—
the stop in havana only
made things worse
he ended up broke—
a black eye, no billfold
in trouble as usual
how could be show up—
back in new york this way
even peggy hated him
his eyes pea-green—
color of caribbean sharks
sailor-poet overboard
he used to sing songs—
before he let his lips touch
the mud far below
His Ribs
—for Alex Dimitrov
when it was over—
i let it slide thru me like
snot from a runny nose
he stained the sheets—
kept on trembling until
there wasn’t a drop left
he let go of my head—
fingers wrapped tight in my
hair, a pube in my teeth
The Underwear
—for Alex Dimitrov
at 14 i’d seen him naked—
my cute young stepfather who
my mother had got married to
she couldn’t stand my father—
and he couldn’t stand her so
that’s how i ended up in love
he kept his rubbers in the—
upper left-hand drawer of my
mother’s dressingroom cabinent
they’d get drunk on sat nights—
then make love when they got
home, i pretended to be asleep
i snapped the waistband—
of his dirty shorts and smelled
what a young man smells like
i pressed my face into it—
pretended he was fucking me in
the mouth, tasting his smegma
i sank my teeth into the cotton—
biting deep into the man i wanted bad
the terror & pleasure of cuming dirty
my knees gave in, i went spaz—
all i wanted was what mother got
he knew but wouldn’t let me have it
Thru the Keyhole
—for Alex Dimitrov
watching him thru—
the keyhole i couldn’t help it
but i had to do it anyway
knowing he was getting it—
his exquisitely muscular
tight sneaky flexed ass
my mommy dearest—
getting him off each night
in their crummy bedroom
so that’s how it was—
in our dumpy duplex home
they fucked all the time
that’s the problem—
when you fall in love with
your own hetero stepfather
I was stupid and naïve—
thinking maybe I could get
some of that str8t guy stuff
he was so self-centered tho—
so awfully vain and completely
selfish & so was my mother
all she was interested in—
was the same thing i was
ogling at thru the keyhole
he was in love with himself—
she was in love with it even
worse than he was
i was in love with it too—
even finding him jerking
off in the shower sometimes
Self Portrait as Bette Davis
in Contempt
—for Alex Dimitrov
it’s easy for bette—
to be bitter in the movies
she’s my favorite actress.
especially baby jane—
when she serves blanche
dead parakeet under glass
she makes curtains sway—
the red light district scream
jesus christ, what a dump!
she’s got my number—
she knows all about eve and
even more about slutty adam
Despite Yolanda
—for Alex Dimitrov
before he comes—
he always says her name
i simply can’t take it
it drives me crazy—
hearing another person’s
name coming outta him
especially yolanda—
and it takes a long time
for him to say it too
but i want it bad—
his cum at its richest that
first moment it shoots
i need something hot—
and alive to get me going
thru the rest of the day
The Vampire’s Lover
he had an hour without it—
two sharp incisors aching for it
inside his straitjacketed mind
the heart’s black pool—
a balkan curse expiring in the air
waking up nobody
his coffin sliding into—
an invisible crypt in a castle
built for the living dead
manhattan his new home—
so easy moving through the city
most of the people dead anyway
undressing beside the piano—
elegant and unmistakably old
his mouth that never releases
a faint circle of blood—
some teeth marks in my shirt
like he said it wouldn’t hurt
___________________________
The Crucifix
Radiance
Orizaba
His Ribs
The Underwear
Thru the Keyhole
Self Portrait as Bette Davis in Contempt
Despite Yolanda
The Vampire’s Lover
_______________________
The Crucifix
—for Alex Dimitrov
he didn’t come easy—
it was more like an awful
excruciating crucifixion
sometimes it would—
get twisted around his
neck and he’d choke
not as much as me—
gagging and trying to
keep communion down
after unzipping him—
letting him nail me to
the ceiling with it
then him playing—
lazarus & me raising
him from the dead
Radiance
—for Alex Dimitrov
even tho his eyes—
were brown at night they’d
ooze deepest lavender
i wondered if he were—
seeing what i was seeing
but he’d squeeze them shut
i had pry them open—
with a crowbar just to see
the flame that turned me on
Orizaba
—for Alex Dimitrov
below deck the kid—
who Hart Crane wanted
rebuffed him & beat him up
once was enough—
the kid took the gringo’s
money begrudgingly
but crane was drunk—
the stop in havana only
made things worse
he ended up broke—
a black eye, no billfold
in trouble as usual
how could be show up—
back in new york this way
even peggy hated him
his eyes pea-green—
color of caribbean sharks
sailor-poet overboard
he used to sing songs—
before he let his lips touch
the mud far below
His Ribs
—for Alex Dimitrov
when it was over—
i let it slide thru me like
snot from a runny nose
he stained the sheets—
kept on trembling until
there wasn’t a drop left
he let go of my head—
fingers wrapped tight in my
hair, a pube in my teeth
The Underwear
—for Alex Dimitrov
at 14 i’d seen him naked—
my cute young stepfather who
my mother had got married to
she couldn’t stand my father—
and he couldn’t stand her so
that’s how i ended up in love
he kept his rubbers in the—
upper left-hand drawer of my
mother’s dressingroom cabinent
they’d get drunk on sat nights—
then make love when they got
home, i pretended to be asleep
i snapped the waistband—
of his dirty shorts and smelled
what a young man smells like
i pressed my face into it—
pretended he was fucking me in
the mouth, tasting his smegma
i sank my teeth into the cotton—
biting deep into the man i wanted bad
the terror & pleasure of cuming dirty
my knees gave in, i went spaz—
all i wanted was what mother got
he knew but wouldn’t let me have it
Thru the Keyhole
—for Alex Dimitrov
watching him thru—
the keyhole i couldn’t help it
but i had to do it anyway
knowing he was getting it—
his exquisitely muscular
tight sneaky flexed ass
my mommy dearest—
getting him off each night
in their crummy bedroom
so that’s how it was—
in our dumpy duplex home
they fucked all the time
that’s the problem—
when you fall in love with
your own hetero stepfather
I was stupid and naïve—
thinking maybe I could get
some of that str8t guy stuff
he was so self-centered tho—
so awfully vain and completely
selfish & so was my mother
all she was interested in—
was the same thing i was
ogling at thru the keyhole
he was in love with himself—
she was in love with it even
worse than he was
i was in love with it too—
even finding him jerking
off in the shower sometimes
Self Portrait as Bette Davis
in Contempt
—for Alex Dimitrov
it’s easy for bette—
to be bitter in the movies
she’s my favorite actress.
especially baby jane—
when she serves blanche
dead parakeet under glass
she makes curtains sway—
the red light district scream
jesus christ, what a dump!
she’s got my number—
she knows all about eve and
even more about slutty adam
Despite Yolanda
—for Alex Dimitrov
before he comes—
he always says her name
i simply can’t take it
it drives me crazy—
hearing another person’s
name coming outta him
especially yolanda—
and it takes a long time
for him to say it too
but i want it bad—
his cum at its richest that
first moment it shoots
i need something hot—
and alive to get me going
thru the rest of the day
The Vampire’s Lover
he had an hour without it—
two sharp incisors aching for it
inside his straitjacketed mind
the heart’s black pool—
a balkan curse expiring in the air
waking up nobody
his coffin sliding into—
an invisible crypt in a castle
built for the living dead
manhattan his new home—
so easy moving through the city
most of the people dead anyway
undressing beside the piano—
elegant and unmistakably old
his mouth that never releases
a faint circle of blood—
some teeth marks in my shirt
like he said it wouldn’t hurt
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