Turns Out I'm Just a Hack Who Wants to Get Laid

Ho! Ho! Ho!


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Turns Out I’m Just a Hack Who Needs to Get Laid
(for my next latest crush, wherever I may find her/him)
I shouldn’t write a poem about this
because you’re here tonight
and you know I writing about you
and our shared friends know as well
this might cause some awkwardness
it’s a risk like going to a doctor
a car mechanic, a guru,
but all your talk about not being afraid,
about going for what we really want,
about stating clearly what the vision is
for the new year has inspired me.
you’re the tangible rainbow whose warmth
I can hold, whose flesh I could taste and taste
what the colors know,
whose blood I draw from the bite of love
is the salt and the sweet of the sex of time
you make me happy
it’s been a long time
since I’ve felt this way
in a way--
I haven’t felt since my last first kiss
with a woman I wanted to work out a life with,
that narrow interval like a crack in a wall
that sun shines through
where all that is possible has not yet warred with fear,
has not yet clamped its ears from the screaming no,
has not yet felt the punch in the gut
of let’s just be friends
it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad
My friends are like beer
I’d never reject another
so welcome to my friendship list
it’s packed and growing and I’m glad
it’s not so bad as my Kindergarten teacher
Mrs. Jackson telling me in front of the class
that I was a problem the universe
had no interest in solving
it’s not so bad
as my first lover telling me
that her more mature lover
was better in bed,
it’s not so bad
as my mother running to her room
to cry because she thinks I’m mentally ill
every time I visit for the holidays
and open my mouth about
answering the latest call to adventure
I shouldn’t write a poem about this
but you make me wanna write
like I know what I’m doin’
like you’re the face of beauty
I was born to kiss
like fuck the sunset, fuck the sunrise
fuck the birds! fuck the birds!
I prefer your song to theirs--
the way you say my name
like I’m not crazy
like I’m a man who maybe
can love you in the way I desire
like maybe you could desire the same
like maybe you just need a little time
to maybe say yes to these lips
to this goatee,
to this bald head
and to the dark hot nights of our future
like maybe we’re still young
like the century is young,
like the Millennium is young
Is it wrong that I wanna part your mouth
with the organ of the spoken word,
or maybe put it in your ear
to kick up the heat of friendship
with a heat greater than words
my tongue wants to do
a lot of things with you
but it’s not up to me
like it’s not up to a believed in god
to save a 7-year-old boy cowering beneath the covers
because a tornado’s comin’ and his mother’s not home
from her card party
like it’s not up to a father to be sensitive
and turn off the radio’s traumatizing weather alerts
no the universe is funny that way
the will the want the need the desire
is half the story at best
the other half is free as she must be
to say no or yes or I don’t know
to the lusty storms that I have planned
to the sunny after-scenes that I have dreamed,
to the I wanna kiss you here
then there and oh oh there
and not just on the cheek
as the warm fuzzy friendly
paradigm dictates
I do not regret this poem
because my love is here to hear it
and whatever seed I have left to spray
will be sprayed because I’ve said it
aloud in this temple of love,
smelling of booze, smoke and poets
this poem is for you too my darlings
because if she ultimately says no
and we settle for friends for life
which I’d be fine with
know this--
boys and girls
I’m coming for you
because I love to be loved
in the ways I wanna be loved
which is every fuckin’ way there is to love
and my boundaries are oh
so thin I can taste you like
the sweet mint lip gloss of tomorrow’s dream,
tomorrow’s poem, tomorrow’s need