by tom miller

1:59 a.m.
june 3, 1999

 

 

open mike night at the

common grounds coffee house

 

 

they are

doodling on their

out of tune guitars

 

and the

audience

talks talks

 

everything is

so important

 

 

lots of hair

and smell and

girls wet with

need

 

 

 

vinny,

the nurse from

hell laughs

 

his guitar

hanging loose on

his neck

 

all night long--

feedback

notes

riffs from the crowd

 

but no music

 

traffic going by

in the window

 

my beer

almost empty

 

tuning

tuning

and more tuning

 

until the

instruments are

precisely

 

out of tune

 

somehow

the chess players

keep their concentration

 

but they are

not very good

 

 

__________________

 

 

so goes

another poem. i had a good buzz

at the university club,

after the reading.

 

so good, i offered up my

beer to any takers

 

but there were none

and the bartender said,

"drink it!"

 

so i tried...

 

two sips...

 

and that was all i could stomach

 

 

______________________

 

 

woke up with a young drag queen

early next morning

 

no, he wasn't in drag,

 

and he wanted to do the nasty

again

 

but i wasn't really into it.

 

somehow, we did it anyway.

 

the end was unglamorous,

unsexual, un-anything.

 

another empty bottle:

 

i jacked off on his chest.

 

he jacked off on his stomach.

 

we wiped up with an old towel.

 

then, there were his kisses,

lightly on my lips, face,

 

on my neck.

 

as if,

 

"thanks for the sperm ejection.

 

i want to eject more sperm.

 

my dick...

 

my cock...

 

my engorged flesh tube loves you."

 

 

kiss kiss

 

 

and he's a guy who just can't take a hint.

 

you know the type.

 

i tried.

i was as nice as possible.

 

"i've got to take a nap," i said. meaning, "please leave now."

 

he replied, "okay." meaning, "i'll take a nap with you."

 

"got all your stuff?" i asked. "your shoes, your keys?"

meaning, "please leave now. this is my second hint."

 

kiss kiss. he is at my neck again. hand against my uninspired penis.

 

"mmmmm," he said.

 

"i think you should head out, so i can get some sleep. i'm really

tired and busy and

 

for jesus christ's sake, could you for the love of fucking christ just get in

your car and go?"

 

and then, finally, he put on his shoes and got his keys and

said his good-bye.

 

i liked him. but he was only twenty, and a drag queen, and had told me

he had done this many times before.

 

maybe, i didn't like him all that much. who knows.

 

but he left, and i thought to myself, i'm not going to call.

 

i knew HE would.

 

i knew when he called, i wouldn't answer.

 

we don't answer the phone at the institute for advanced concepts.

 

 

___________

 

 

then,

wine.

 

at least three glasses,

followed by 10 year old single malt.

 

two glasses.

at the philo bistro.

 

our topic was,

"is it human nature to be monogamous?"

 

nobody had any idea,

but we talked for an hour.

 

we finished by

expressing our conclusions based on the conversation,

and still nobody had any idea.

 

went upstairs

and had more beer,

then off to common grounds coffee house

 

a boy i had made it with

was there, and hitting on a pretty girl

as if to say,

hey, tom;

 

thanks for fucking me in the ass,

but i'm straight now.

 

and thanks for shooting your cum

on my face, and for sucking my dick.

 

and thanks,

for letting me suck yours,

but i'm straight now.

 

see me?

see me arm in arm with this

hot girl?

 

see the hunger in my eyes

looking at her breasts?

 

the way they shine through

her t-shirt?

 

 

___________

 

 

ron was there too.

 

he had beer.

so did i.

 

we toasted.

 

talked about going out for sushi.

 

he offered to buy another one.

i accepted.

 

of course i did.

i'm really a poet, after all.

 

and then we read poetry.

 

ron was on the mark.

really putting on a show.

 

some talked through his reading,

but i didn't. and anyone important didn't.

 

the only people who were talking

were trying to get laid,

 

or trying to pass the time in between

trying to get laid.

 

or just talking because they knew

they'd NEVER get laid.

 

ron read some great ones,

and then read

 

"screams of a faceless rat" for the

10,000th time.

 

that's where the audience dropped off,

but he didn't notice and

didn't care.

 

he'll read it again, too.

soon.

 

they'll talk through it,

but he'll think it's his coup de grace.

 

he needs to leave that poem somewhere

and start reading new ones.

 

poems that haven't been tested.

 

it's like

after awhile,

jacking off isn't good enough

and you need to find

another hand.

 

i read a few of mine,

and was met with applause,

 

once i had them in my grasp.

 

read my poem about the

unflushable ball of shit.

 

they really liked that one.

 

read some others.

i was a knockout.

 

called someone a faggot in the audience

who had the audacity to talk during my reading.

 

"hey, you! faggot! shut your fucking hole," i said.

he laughed and then was quiet.

 

 

____________

 

 

after, back at the gay bar,

i wouldn't have watched the strip show,

except for the fact that

this beautiful hispanic young man

entered the contest.

 

he danced behind a

shadow curtain and stripped down naked

and moved his arms around.

 

he was beautiful in person.

in shadow, he had the raw power of

night. the fear, mystery.

 

then he turned sideways and

his dick was missing. but it didn't matter.

i was looking at his spiritual infinity,

and his hot fucking ass.

 

and the way he moved was so sexy,

no wonder he won second place.

 

a lesbian won first.

 

all her friends had clapped for her,

because she swung her tits the best.

 

she jiggled her way to $75.

 

feminism does have its rewards.

 

 

__________

 

 

and so

the night concluded with

me at the gay bar

 

my X-boyfriend sitting next to me

sort of lingering around as if he wanted to

explore whatever comes after the end of failure,

 

and i said,

"good night, rusty. good night, kenny. good night, chris.

good night, you last call soldiers."

 

and i went down the stairs,

got on my $10 bike,

and peddled home.

 

now i'm going to jack off

and go to bed.