Thursday 13 October 2016

A POEM by Zia Álmos Yeshua X

just be yrself hot yeah clean just hawt REAL real hot yeah just MASC hot hung sane sorted yeah prefer would only with REAL m8 femmes fats no no no asians no blacks caucausian BIG HUNG yh real masculine not for mr. right now non-scene queens screaming yeah? yeah REAL MEN don't like like girls else I'd be with a yeah worked out healthy yeah negnegneg GYM FIT REAL LAD MUSCLE fun MUSCLE MUSCLE MUSCLE HUNG MUSCLE MUSCLE interesting genuine MUSCLE older tend to go for MUSCLE I'm not racist it's just a type from? just a type from? fun grrr from? type tatts like ink big hairy coupled chest no twinks BEARDED yeah yeah beards tatts but we all know he's slept with half of london str8-ginger yeah-acting yeah 100% be I real man just like my men to MEN real men just a type it's no fats no femmes its no fats no femmes no asians all these camp queens I'm just a normal not like all those just a normal like a normal just like a normal like a guy like a man I'm just like a guy but I'm gay and just I imagine you lying on top of so I can't breathe you crush all thinking from me and i think "this is ok, please end please stop" and I think of how much hope I had when I first saw two men kiss on a dancefloor it broke my heart I damn near cried from the fucking hope of not feeling like the world had to be so fucking hateful and dull that dullness no longer had to be a fetish but we keep asking where are our fathers went out for smokes or stayed in for disappointment, and when can we fuck them, suck the milk of their approval worship the light thru the windows, stained and kill our brother I think I'm bored of being tedious but how tedious is that so mostly I say nothing or a lot of nothing looking for HUNG tall muscle cub sweaty chem sesh yeah t/b top am hard-fucking rough top dom bottom will leave the door open RAW kiss me one more time before you leave HUNG?

eevee on grindr by Nik Way

i downloaded grindr just after pokemon go was released so naturally i pretended to be my favourite pokemon, eevee 

convo 1

OMG a pokemon!
imma catch u

um no thx

what u already got an owner?

no I’m a wild grasser for lyf
also not down with the whole capture
n imprison pokemon just to make em fight
against their will. ya feel?

Lol im talking to an eevee


Face pic?

Theres one on my profile

No, real face pic

Look Im an Eevee so thats my face

Ok then im articuno

Omigod ur so rare
amazin to meet u articuno

yeah n this water and flying type is flyin away

articuno is flying / ice bro

and u never gonna fuck me

err that took a weird turn but sure
im okay with that

[sends a pic of his butt and then blocks eevee]

convo 2

R u into older bottoms?

imma pokemon so dunno what
that means fam soz


Look this is me

Ur a cartoon???

Imma eevee

my husband and i r into BDSM

Good for u

u wanna be spit-roast & whipped?

Pretty sure interspecies pokemon
bestiality is like, well illegal m8

im 63

congrats im level five
u must’ve beaten a lotta gyms

u do chems?

does rare candy count?

ur not takin it srsly bye then 

convo 3

eevee is ma fave
caught one today

congrats fam. treat it well or
i’ll come at ya like a gyardos usin dragon rage

what u want to be when
ur older eevee?

dunno. happy would be nice but
ill settle for well fed

what u wanna evolve into

urgh well that’s a lot of effort u feel?
like for half of em I need to find magic
stones which are rare af and the rest
I need to become good friends with a trainer
during the day or night like no thx not worth
it just to get a glam mermaid tail or whatev

what made u make this profile
like why be eevee

I am eevee

ok but the guy behind
the profile why pick a pokemon
on a gay hook-up app?

for the lols. on here ppl either get the joke
or they have no idea whats going on. its just
for my own amusement.


I guess its also a reaction to the shallowness
of this thing like ur just scrolling through a face
mosaic thinkin ‘I could do better’ judging ppl
on their eyes or abs n like i cant do that
I dont think i can put my face up for judgement
n not get like knocked evrytime someon doesnt
reply cos i know all their goin on is my face like
thats too personal to broadcast to every other
gay guy in the area, on a place where ur very presence
means ‘i am alone’. so i have my fun bein an eevee
to avoid rejection and the lowering of self-worth
that comes with it

wanna suck my dick?



She said that road was closed
When a car fell through the pavement
Because everyone here knows
Rome is built on many layers

Streets on top of streets, centuries deep
I was half-listening to her but I was also
Checking out a guy in tightly fitting jeans
She said, ‘He’s not gay, he’s just Italian.’

Those telltale signs don’t translate here
Even body language was foreign to me
Back home I can suss men out speedily
With successful subtlety but here in Rome

My gaydar flashed left right everywhere
With many layers of miscommunication
So I turned to my trusty iPhone
For some serious investigation

I log on to Grindr; iPhone gay sex finder
Yep, ‘there’s an app for that’
I didn’t come to Rome for this
Random sex isn’t something that I miss

Almost a year without a one-night stand
This certainly wasn’t planned
But it was a welcome surprise
When he popped up on my iPhone screen

(Location 24 metres away)

My friend who grew up here said
She didn’t know anyone who was gay
Yet for two years this hot gay man
Has lived in the apartment above her

So I guess this guy knows how to
Keep his business undercover
But then came me and my poetry
Shamelessly, I expose late-night iniquity

While my friend slept, up the stairs
I crept to meet this man of mystery
If you’d asked before, I’d’ve said for sure
My days of sleeping around were history

But as he opened his apartment door, what I saw
In his wise eyes made me feel differently
How did I feel such heat for a complete stranger?
At 2 a.m. we meet, discreetly, and I feel no danger

We were smoking a spliff and listening to Radiohead
Next thing we were kissing and I was giving him ____
We had instant rapport, I felt so relaxed
There’s nothing I’d change if I could go back

And when he said he was coming to London
Clapham to be precise, my first thought was
To déjà vu this rendezvous would be nice
To walk on pavements cars don’t fall through

To speak loud and public with body language
But then I thought of why I had done this
And what I wanted to achieve. I had nothing
More to give and nothing I wanted to receive

From this ancient city where new technology
Found a tender moment in close proximity
Because now this night is eternal like Rome

And in this poem I can take Leonardo home.

Sunday 9 October 2016

Grindr by Theo Morgan

Loading more guys
Filter On
Nice cat
Hi how are you?
Hi m8
Lookin' good
Horrible weather

Tuesday 14 June 2016

FOUR POEMS by Dominic Berry

Titles: 'When Grindr Guys Send Me Their Dick Pix', 'date in delhi', 'Men Locked Behind Toilet Doors (Part 1)', 'My Rude Elbow'.

When Grindr Guys Send Me Their Dick Pix

The biggest and smallest are on show;
from slender bananas to thick bricks;
I’ve many a frame-worthy photo
from Grindr guys sending me dick pics.

They’re husbands. They’re fathers. They’re loners.
When I’m feeling sad, it’s a quick fix
to log in and look at their boners.
It’s lovely when blokes send me dick pics.

Sometimes they want wank-offs while skyping.
They never want flowers or picnics.
When I say, ‘let’s meet’, they stop typing.
They often just ask me for dick pics.

Sometimes they will not show their faces.
Sometimes they say girls smell of fish sticks.
Sometimes what they write’s really racist
right after they’ve sent me nice dick pics.

They don’t care about my Bjork LPs.
Sometimes all they want is to click pricks
and share these below-the-belt selfies.
Sometimes their best bits are their dick pics.


date in delhi

many queers here do not put their faces on grindr
sometimes they use superheroes
batman scowls
black widow winks
sometimes they use pictures of open mouthed tigers
bare teeth
longing tongues
often the image is blank

several lizards are panicking up my hotel walls
one is trying to hide behind the long strip light
but I see the narrow fingers of its statuesque hand
jut out like points of a cartoon explosion

street police have big guns and bigger smiles
it is a good morning sir

when i meet mike our coffee mugs look like egg cups
mike has bold muscles and shares his confident belief
that india will treat its gays like england does now
within the next three years or so
between swallowed shots of scalding latte

i am told to walk carefully
mosquitoes and homophobes are everywhere

i am told to eat carefully
but the confident flow of my fiery diarrhoea
has long since taken its residence
in this delicate stomach
relentless with its stinging certainty
it doesnt seem like it is ever going to change


Men Locked Behind Toilet Doors (Part 1)

Jack and Ben are men locked behind a toilet door. Jack is fucking Ben's arse. The air is hot and smells of vomit. Ben knows Jack owns every Bjork CD even the remix ones yes even the shit remix ones Ben's shit is on Jack's legs and inside Jack's boxers. Ben thinks don't stop. Never. Be. Lonely. The sound of half a phone call is heard outside another man explains to someone else that he needs it Thursday not Friday no it has to be Thursday no listen it must be Thursday no you don't understand Thursday Thursday fuck. Ben thinks don't stop. Great pain. Jack does not know Ben's name Jack adores the taste of his own sweat mmm yes he licks his upper lip mmm yes he wishes someone was filming him right now xtube this is love mmm yes this could go viral.


My Rude Elbow

My elbow is so sexy
it could detonate a church.

Just a peak of its raw flesh triggers
hard ons from all males in a one hundred meter radius.

a boner bomb.

Married men's vows of fidelity will be forgotten
as trousers drop to ankles
and the united seismic force of their
violent, public masturbation will threaten to
rip apart Britain's economy,
overthrow the monarchy
and release total orgiastic anarchy.

Your grandmother once saw me expose myself.
She had to pretend she was appalled
but I know that one fleeting sight of my nude elbow
gave your nan her first multiple orgasm.
She said she hadn't felt that alive since the war.

International terrorists have created an iPhone app.
A close up pic of my elbow can be sent
to any screen anywhere in the world.
If you see my elbow that close, that naked,
both your eyes turn inside out.
Squelch! Squelch! Elbow porn murder.

Sometimes, wish I had no arms.
I never asked to have elbows this erotic.
No wonder some only share their elbows
behind locked doors.

Picture this:
your elbow, my tongue,
everyone watching.
Slobber, slurp, lick,
everyone, rolling up sleeves,
everyone, bare arm joint on bare arm joint,
every gender, creed and age,
indiscriminate, unleashed, undeniable,
no longer locked under shirt.
we’re unstoppable.

Join me!

No one will laugh or make fun of your elbow
because your elbow is fucking hot.

With all this joy
how could we not
a sexier world?

Monday 13 June 2016

GRINDR by Jack Bateman

  (shortlisted for NozSlam 2016)

Today I opened Grindr. Because, well, I mean, I'm gay; astray, away from that straight and narrow arrow, sharpened from blunt, shooting hard into a- I can't.

Today I opened Grindr. An application for the masses of a niche which applies the application of clichés that helps raise these pillars that divide us further inside of our already stifled state. Wait... We're the queer; the abnormal whose formal role is to represent the diverse that presents itself today, but adverse circumstances have taken stance. We chop ourselves into sectioned groups, digestible scoops, of this warm silky substance that slides softly down to the stomach of... heteronormativity.

Today I opened Grindr because I was horny - needed action, a transaction of lustful energy. I wanted to pick which pic of the dick I lick and stick in my-I whole heartedly believe we are forced to single ourselves out - of the closet and we close it, only to be cloaked in the 'butch', the 'lipstick', the 'straight' or the 'camp' - ; clamped on shelves as straight studs or feminized fairies. It's fairly simple - top or bottom? Postman or letterbox? which is it? wait a minute Mr Postman; tell me do give or receive because we believe these decisions are needed to retrieve your personality? I'll let you slip that letter in, letting you be the wrecker of my treasure, feeding my ever needing desire. My diet has gone quiet for quite a while, so your sausage in my roll is welcome, playing the role of your always prepared - never scared rectu- STOP. Ugh this nonstop divide; I preach this speech that each person should not be burdened with certain sickly, sticky, signatures.

Today I opened Grindr, and I've clawed at gender politics, but I'm flawed, growing bored of these lies, guys, listen. I'm a contradiction - I fiction myself as this activist - what an actress I've become. The truth is the smoothness of the rainbow i follow - is harsh, defined - a shrine to the strange -an obsession, and you do not question the queer you steer towards... And I don't. Wait a minute Mr Postman, can I be the Jane to your Tarzan? The Wendy to your Peter Pan? Will you fuck me?

Thursday 9 June 2016

CATFISH ON A DATE by Thomas smith

My Dad must know something is going on
I have taken a strange amount of interest
In how I look today, which is unusual because
It is completely immaterial to how I write

And I have shaved the bits of my beard
That don’t quite look beardy enough
I have trimmed my moustache until my lips
Are actually visible, I suppose all of this

Is a nod to the fact that the only pictures
You have seen of me are three years
Out of date, which I have admitted to
As I didn’t want to appear a Catfish

I pull on my Christmas Star Wars socks
It's C3P0 today, and I wonder if I wear them
You will wonder if I am gay, but then
As an artist and a poet, so the chances are high

Which wouldn’t matter, if it was a date
With a boy as I guess I would want him
To think I was gay, I mean there are a
Couple of men I like, but she’s not one of them

I stick with the socks, It’s a first date
I can’t imagine we will get to the socks on
Or off point, that’s definitely third date territory
Also I decide that not liking C3PO is a deal breaker

I wonder why I worried about my toe nails
I wonder why I am worried, this is meant to be enjoyable
Right? Right… oh fuck, now I really am worried
Can’t wear matching T-shirt I plump for Matrix

It has the three main characters, Neo, Morpheus, and Trinity
If she can name one of them its two thumbs up
If she can name all three I will explain to her if offered the red
And blue pill option I’d take both grind them to dust

And snort them off Trinity’s bottom
Which is essentially what living in the 21st century is like
If she laughs at that it’s three thumbs up
(I’ll find another arm) likewise if she groans

I’m a little worried that if I stop writing then It’ll
Actually happen, I’ll have a date, which leads possibly
To more dates at best, no more dates at worst

I guess that’s win-win, shit I am such a Catfish 

Wednesday 3 February 2016


It’s hard to know what I used to do when I had a spare thought
What did I do to procrastinate? When work wasn’t frought

But the truth is its being there is a distraction in itself
My productivity ceases as the papers mount my shelf

My inbox less important than this time consuming app
Wondering who is close by and if he’s a handsome chap

The urge to see if that man appearing next to me
Is a face, a torso, blank image or maybe he’s a she

If he’s after, sex, love or dates and better still can host
Seems to be the question I ask now more regular than most

But this urge I have to see these men and if they like my pic
Affects the tasks I’m paid to do and makes me call in sick

These many men defining themselves by their listed tribe
Makes me think I understand them and think I get their vibe

But the truth is all these hours spent checking who is keen
Are affecting my performance and my boss is turning mean

Only last week himself a member told me he that It has to stop
If you keep trawling that app all day I’m giving you the chop

But these threats do not scare me and I am prepared to sue
If he can spend all day on it and then surely I can too

That drunken chat between us both and those photos of his cock
Could end up in the wrong hands and give his boss a shock

In reality he can do nothing as I continue playing this blinder
With one eye on the job I do and the other one on Grindr 

Monday 1 February 2016


‘Twas the night before Christmas and on every iPhone

The hook-up apps were buzzing with men who felt alone.

Their stockings hung limply, no fire in their grate

But their fingers were typing: “Hi,”  “Alright, mate?”

And suddenly Christmas, so cold and so heinous

Began slowly to thaw through the power of Venus. 

“What u up 2?” asked one – “Not much,” t’other replied

As his chestnuts started roasting ‘twixt his festive thighs

“Not much?” thought young Tom, “Well, I’ll soon change that”

And he sent him a nude in a Santa Claus hat.

With a whoop, John received it, and leapt to his feet

Rushed over to the window and looked out at the street

Though outside winter snow past the lampposts was falling

Inside it was hot – but his pubes were appalling.

Kicking tinsel aside with his frantic young feet,

“Come round in 10” he replied, as he groped for the veet.

“Gr8, send location.  BTW, r u smooth?”

“I’ll send him a hole-pic, his worries to soothe”

But as his hairless derriere winged its way through the air

Came a problem: though he squeezed, no more veet was there there.

“OMG!” cried the twink, “Bloody hell, ain’t it tough?

He wanted me ass smooth, he won’t want it rough!

If only there was something – someone I could turn to!”

“Ho ho ho” said a voice, “Merry Xmas to you!”

From up by the chimney came a crash and a clatter

As eight great fat reindeer and one even fatter

Old bear hit the roof – “Love a night on the tiles!

Quick, pass me a pie: I’ve been mincing for miles”

“Could it be, is it him?” gasped our unshorn hero

“That voice is as jolly as a double-mulled-five-spiced-chai-soy-latte from Café Nero!”

With a house-shaking thud, first a bum, then a face

Plopped down firm and resounding in his fireplace.

“Ho ho ho – oh, pardon me, there’s just one of you, not three”

Cried the soot-streaked old vision ‘neath the twinkling’s Christmas tree.

“I heard you a-wailing ‘bout your hairy knick-knacks,

And hark! Lo! Behold! I bring a strip of wax!”

“Outside now” came the message from John’s paramour

“Not a minute too soon!  Quick, I’m one hairy whore!”

And so Santa’s experienced hands grasped his sack

And where once there was hairy excess was hair-lack.

“WTF?” Tom cried, “Who’s this doddering old codger?”

“Oh he’s no one!” John replied, “Just my venerable lodger.”

“Lodger my eye!” boomed the angry St Nick

“Why, I’ve just plucked your plump Christmas turkey, you prick!”

“Wait a sec,” Tom exclaimed, “Now I look at you twice

It’s you, innit Santa – old naughty-or-nice.

Since you’ve been instrumental in smoothing my way,

Why don’t you join us for a roll in the hay?”

Well, the jolly old man flushed and twinkled his eyes

And as he got busy between the twink’s thighs

He was heard to exclaim as he thrust out of sight

“Merry Christmas to all – and good God, this is tight!”