Wednesday 30 September 2015

THE 'GROUND HEART' by Nyasha Paragon Langley

It's the application that spawned a thousand fruitless interactions. Millions of topless abdomens that disappear when challenged for facial recognition. Discrete, like your exposure is my life's mission. I'm fighting my own battles and have no time to facilitate your implosion. In your own time but you probably shouldn't be on your day grind. Surprise surprise I don't do blind date with Pricilla White. What did you expect when you sent me your best assets. And I don't care how well your abs flex if I can't see your face I'm gonna take rain check moving on to the next. 

He said its HIV I said it don't bother me but your attitude does to other STDs so please wrap it up before we get nasty. I was being blunt not hunty. Most importantly I was protecting my piece. See I'm well versed in terms like high and horny and how they normally come coupled with a trip to 56 dean street. Tail between your legs as you enter on your feet. Because you went to a chill out party, slept with with the room but forgot the Jonny. No that's no longer for me, I luckily escaped without doing my abc, out the door into my uber taxi. 

The money's gone, and the bags are empty, the people have dissipated leaving stained jeans. The heart sinks like a hole in Miami. The whole room turns fuzzy. He can feel the San Andreas fault running up from his abdomen. At least I have the gin. A salted tear drop hangs from his chin. He now has no one to stop these liquid strings, he had confused the word aqaintence for the word friend. You see these lads had no interest in him just his system. Being alone is what he dreads, a collective held together by kinks and dirt. You see it's only a matter of time before life grabs you by the eyes and makes you blind. But he survives by telling himself lies.

He chose the app to build his house skimped on concrete and didn't put foundations down. I'm okay he said just looking for fun his heart beating with that static hum. Yeah that's cool but what's your status Hun. You can hear the fingers saying it's only bareback between these buns. Waiting for a reply from the other he moves on to the next with a flick of the thumb. You see I'm not calling Grindr bad I'm just asking the question 'with technology what have we become?'

Thursday 10 September 2015

OUTSIDE THE BOX by Daniel Davis

I spent years feeling “outside”,  would cry at the thought
That I ought to be someone else, some other sort
Of man, who could fall for a woman, then be,
Everything England expected of me.
I searched hard, and in vain, for some other self,
For a costume that fitted, kept me off the shelf
And its gathering dust, and I may as well say
That the last thing I wanted was to admit I’m gay.
But that old life, it took every chance to remind me,
That inside and outside weren’t living in harmony
The scorn of one would flash-fry  the other,
As I tried to fit in, be a son, friend and brother.
Until finally, one day, a guy kissed my lips,
And as he rested his hands on my trembling hips
That dam of resistance was just swept away
And I finally screamed from the rooftops
“I’m gay!”
Naively, I thought “Yes! The End of my journey!
I’ve found the holy grail of a phrase to define me”
And yet here I am, 45, and old  tears have dried
But nevertheless, I’m now mystified.
Am I a daddy? An otter? A bear?
Or maybe a fox due to silvery hair?
A top or a bottom, a ‘vers’, or a side?
What if none of the drop down menu applied?
I can’t be a twink, because others decided,
I can’t be a ‘muscle’, biceps are derided
By gym bunnies! Gyms? Somewhere I never go,
So what the hell option do I click on below?
Where’s the one that says “Me! And
It all depends whether,
I’m feeling like cuddling, or dressing in leather
Or maybe I want to be stroked with a feather
Where’s that option below? “
The one that says…
 “Me, I would like to be just who I want to,
But apparently that doesn’t exist in the menu,
And I won’t show up in searches, unless I define
Myself as a category that isn’t quite mine”
So I turn off the screen, after scratching my head
And I go and do something less boring instead
I might be missing the chance of the nicest of cocks
But I can’t help myself, I’m just
Outside the box.