Thursday, 9 July 2015

TOM DICK AND HARRY by Jacob V Joyce

Tom’s headlights blind me 
too bright to see through his window 
so I sidle up beside and look inside 
he smiles wide as I inwardly sigh because this guy 
looks totally different to his profile picture. 
His hair once tucked in truckers cap, 
Rapper thug trope of black aesthetic, 
a mimetic that triggered desire for bigger men than me 
is gone now instead thin plats dangles loosely at his back 
In a way school girls might braid just to keep it neat and tidy, 
I slide in on the passengers seat beside him 
greeting his tired eyes that say don’t run away 
its Tuesday your listening to vibes fm at a quarter past 10 pm. 
His first question off set my expectations 
The soft Jamaican pronunciation 
Was so light and airy for such a wide and heavy man
With heavy hands clamped on the steering wheel 
“How are you?” a delicate query like leaves testing puddles in the street 
Held taught on thin films of awkward tension, 
I don’t mention my disappointment but hesitate wondering how to delineate my current state,
and then explain that I am nervous.
 “Why you nervous for?” he lilted, tilting his gaze to the road partially phased out of view by the snakes of rain, breaking in chains on the window pain of his Ford Mondeo.
Its not far he assured me,
and the car engine roared key in lock,
and vibes fm assured me it was gonna be a serious night tonight. 

Dicks shiny head popped out of the covers 
I buzzed down the corridor like a bumblebee drunkenly
bumbling down a corridor to the sound of the buzzer
before The pre-recorded voice robotically instructed me
to “close the door behind you” 
It echoed the tune of clinical musk
vacuum packed new build flats,
sterile shopping isles of fully furnished identical
pre-packaged high renticles.
The last door is ajar and candlelight
creates a path as I enter and shut the door behind me. 
The glistening silk pillows of dicks bed
are punctuated by his bald and grinning head
mischievous and excited his eager glee
ignites the presence and ominous glare
of a giant teddy bear sat dominating the room
on its wicker IKEA throne chair,
a voice moans inside me,
does dick have special needs,
but then recedes many grown men must still have teddies
I still have a that raggedy rabit but I usually grab it and
hide him in the closet if I have a casual guest,
Get undressed he tells me,
Im not arrested by his request
infact it brings back memories of truth or dare,
I felt dared to share a secret part of myself
infront of this 35 year old man who has no books or photos of friends or posters on his walls instead decorating with candle lit shadows of me taking off my clothes and getting into his bed.

How can you live in this mess
harry stressed as I knelt
pushing books and and belts off of my bed
Harry carried himself over the clothes thrown over my floor,
And curled his smile wryly eyeimg me as I felt his stomach grow tense
I was so tired my eyes hurt but as soon as his shirt lifted
the sands of sleep sifted to reveal a nugget of burning zeal
yerning to seal the gap between our lips and
for him to grip me by the hips and ask me if I was his boy.
Oi take your shoes off and tiptoe up to my room, he’d warned wearily as we snuck up his stairs silly with desire and fear.
Their would be no explaining to harrys parents what I was doing at 2am on a Tuesday sneaking in to play the same game of whispered refrain that now took place at my mothers house,
we covered each others mouths dousing the spasming flames
of painfull ecstasy with warm wet cocobutter sweat collecting in pools that shuddered in utterances of
stop, stop  your gonna make me buss,
trust I get bare anti when I buss
don’t rush.


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