STR8T BOYZ

Everybody knows—
Drag rules the world, baby

Everybody’s got their—

Own darke drag routine

My darke drag routine—

Is str8t boy drag

That’s why I’m talking—

To you, man

STR8T BOYZ DOING DRAG

Can Str8t Boyz do Drag?—
Queried a curious Fag Hag

 Well, of course, honey!!!

 I’ll bet you Money!!!

They wanna get Pegged—

They’ve even begged

Gimme that Dildo!!! 
C'mon quick a Pillow!!! 

DETOUR, MY DEAR

"Which reminds me—
I can’t afford to waste

another minute”

—Martin Goldsmith, Detour

I don’t know—

Guyz are funny and

Not just sometimes

A fag can like—

Semaphore every

Signal in the book

Before a guy—

Wakes up & finds the

Cruise is over

Now take Raul…

DOUCHE BAG

"It was a trifle overdone,
in movie parlance”

—Martin Goldsmith, Detour

I was fucking around—

Much too much trying

To be Lady Gaga

You gotta underplay it—

A casting director told me

Don’t overdo it…

I couldn’t help myself—

I kept ending up in hot water

Looking around for the douche

SPIEL UND DRAG

Forget your spiel—
I’ll listen to it but

I know it already

Even before you—

Open your big mouth

On the written page

You’re nothing but a—

White trash tramp so

Skip the make-believe

And don’t give me—

That old line about

Confession’s good for soul

SACRILEGIOUS

C’mon don’t tell me—

You’re just another noir

Badboy femme fatale

Just another piece of—

White trash pulp fiction

Young hustler romance?

C’mon gimme a break—

You’ve gotta be kidding

Nobody will believe me

The Lord may be my—

Shield and comfort but who’s

Gonna publish this crap?

SEATTLE NOIR

“There’s nothing so much—

like one road as another road”

—Martin Goldsmith, Detour

There’s nothing so much—

Like one detour being like

Another, know what I mean?

I had to get going fast—

And keep going, where

It just didn’t matter

Part of me was dead—

Still there in San Francisco

Then I was in Seattle

I felt easier in Seattle—

Hard up or not because

Seattle was so fag noir

SAN FRANCISCO

After a face lift—

And gay brain transplant

Up on Pacific Heights

I got into a brief detour—

Being a fag poet there

At City Lights Bookstore

Not so bad really—

Considering who I was

Running around with

Farewell, My Lovely—

Kiss Me Deadly and

The Long Goodbye Kid

I was ready for it, baby—

Norma Desmond’s Sunset Blvd

Floating there in the pool

SINKING IN THE RAIN

And so here I am—

All those cheesy detours

And divagations later

I try to forget but—

Can’t help wondering who

Might have taken my place

If I hadn’t started—

Letting the muse be there

In my driver’s Seat

If fate or some kind of—

Deal with the Devil hadn’t

Stopped to pick me up

ON WRITING

Writing was like Debate—
It couldn't be taught like
Math and the Sciences

It was like Acting—

Some people were naturals

At it and others weren’t

MFA Programs—

In creative writing rackets

Are popular now

It used to be—

Only English Departments

Monopolized the muse

LASSIE-FAIRE

Now every ding-bat—

College and university

Claims to be in the know

How do I know—

Whether it’s completely

Lassie-faire or not?

Learning how to type—

Could very well be one’s

Best first shot

My IBM Selectric—

Stuffed in the closet

Can’t give it away

MISS GUTENBERG

Voice recognition—

And handwriting too

Makes for Word enlightenment

E-books and E-mail—

Making writing tres fast

And instantaneous

Even the NYTimes—

Shifting from newspapers

And print culture to

Online composition—

Like university texts

And homework now

KINDLE AND NOOK

Kindle and Nook—

Just the tip of Madame

Moderne’s Learning Curve

She still does longhand—

Writing notes to herself

Lazy mornings in bed

She has this oh so lovely—

Leaning Tower of Pisa books

On her crowded Nightstand

She still has the evil cat—

On her lap as she sips a

Cup of tea in the morning

MISS PROUST

But something has—

Changed with her being

A writer in Seattle

Like Miss Proust—

Trying to remember

Back into the future

Paul Bowles—

Letting the pages

Write themselves

Arthur Rimbaud—

Letting words slide

Surreal bateau ivre

Joseph Cornell—

Streamlining flicks

Rose Hobart flashbacks