by Gregg Rowe
John loves to give me
Nickel blow jobs,
Picking me up on
St. Catherine and de Champlain
To support his habit
Of peep shows
Heroin, humiliation and men
Hustling for loonies
Amongst the homosexuals
I have loved John
For two years now
Living together
In the same
Peep show movie house
Enticing other men
To group orgies
As celluloid images
Of buffed and synthetic models
Play on the white-sheet screen
Chronically compared to me
John is a child
Twenty-one years old
He is my John Holmes
Homo erectus
With a Tom Steel-ed hard on
Envied by many
Touched just by me
In the movie house
When we are together
He takes me deep
Keeping those mandibles working
As his mouth
Engulfs my manhood
To the hilt
Saliva oozing on my balls
He knows his job:
How to service
And how to get what he wants
As other men
Try to touch and explore
Hoping to participate
He brushes them away
Our bodies connect
With the flick of his long fingers
Teasing my head
And an evil glance with his eye
The crowd of men
Continue to jerk off
In a circle around us
Close to our bodies
"There's no one like you babe
No one but you..."
He says gleefully
During mouthfuls
As he slides down
On my hardened shaft
To the base of my balls
I reach to pull up
His muscle t-shirt
And brush my fingers over
His nickel nipples
Feel them become erect
Under my soft touch
I reach below
To undo his
Button-down 501 jeans
His homo erectus
Slaps against his tanned stomach
From living on the streets
Extending past his belly button
As he sinks further
Into his theatre seat
I stand taller
My legs envelope
His perfect waist
Stand above his angelic face
Eagerly await those
Perfect rose lips
To continue to
Engulf my manhood
As I slowly rock back and forth
My hustler baby
And the men
Continue to circle jerk
And enviously watch
As I explode
Deep into his hot throat
"I'm cumm-m-m-ing!"
I whisper as I lean towards his ear
My hot breath upon
His fresh skin
My shirt drenched
With sweat
And the cool-autumn heat
Pounds my head
He greedily takes me in
And I feel his body tense
As I slide out of
His rose lips
Sticky with my cum
I slide over his body
Nestle between his thighs
Lick his warm sac
Suck on his clean-shaven balls
The young sperm
Shoots from its eye
And splashes on
His sandy-tanned chest
I lick the sweet puddle drops
Feeling the continuous jerks
Of his Homo erectus
Expand in his hand
I grab the tip of his manhood
And slide my mouth down
His long shaft
Cleaning the whistle
With the expertise of my tongue
Sliding over his tender skin
Inhale the smell of his youthful sweat
Mixed with fresh hot semen
He gingerly grabs my chin
Lifts my face off his crotch
And tucks his decreasingly
Manhood into his tight jeans
The circle jerk
Has drenched the floor
Of the theatre with cum
Again
And it's over
In no time
In no time
It's over
Again
And I want him
Again
But he signals
He is spunked out
As my hand re-arranges
His 501 cotton-crotch jeans
I hand him a twenty
For good behaviour
And for swallowing
It would be our last encounter
He dressed aplomb
And his chaste kiss
Was wet and cold
And dried from my semen
As he left the theatre
I saw him later
Six months later
Dancing a waltz
With another man
Older than me
The loonies jiggling
In the old man's pocket
Next to his swollen balls
"We all need to get off,"
I thought
He catches a glimpse of me
Walking into the movie house
Follows me inside and asks for quarters
"Not to play the jukebox"
I tango with him
For a few minutes
Show him a cubicle
For two
Where we could use it
For a confessional
He declines
His eyes cloudy
From the drugs
His lips split
From malnutrition
He polkas out the door
Onto St. Catherine
His shadow disappears
And mingles with the
Snowflakes
I learned later
It wasn't the drugs
That killed him.
Author notes
Written December 2nd, 2001
In a list
A contest entry
- I want DARK!!!!! by Death Awaits000.
400 points, ended June 1, 2004, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
-
Me like
Ok, first of all, using "homo erectus" to describe a penis is brilliantly clever. As for the poem as a whole, it had me going (in many ways), and the stop-and-go flow of the poem totally adds to the frisky nature of sex and sexual behavior. -
very strong and graphic - ceratinly like nothing I've read before!
-
A very HOT read I must say
Gives one a reason to go get laid
YOU did a fine job on the imagery
With the ending that makes you weep
Great job on this piece~ Best wishes to you in the contest
and much love~Desire
-
lordoftherings~
Thank YOU for your entry
I will be back to comment
Appreciate the time you took
And I will be back I promise
Big hugs and much love~Desire
~I say this to everybody so no one should freak
~
-
today is one of those days when i look for profound meaning in everything gregg...
as for having sex/making love/fucking...
don't remember
no, that's not entirely true
i do remember, but it has been a verrrry long time since i made love...and the more recent having sex/fucking isn't worth remembering.
time for me to get off the computer
oh, how i do despise the down phase of bipolar
until later, my friend
~liz
p.s. dubblyah has sex? ewwwww -
People are trying to find a deeper meaning to this poem because, I guess most of my writings have that in it...but I don't think as narrator I was going for a deeper meaning other than my heart goes out to these young men that are forced to work in conditions like this in order to survive day by day, but as a consumer of these men, the narrator allows himself to be detached from the situation presented. It is a narration in the fact that it encompasses a few of the characteristics of my clients that I dealt with in the community centres and watched how they would haphazardly fly through the night without a care, but they should have cared...yet I have been down the road of low self-esteem so can relate to the vicious cycle of these young men...and I still find movie houses and outside under the moon in the park the most erotic places to have sex/make love/or just plain fuck...whatever euphuisms you wish to use here...and you don't have to live in suburbia America to eroticise stories, there is just as much eroticism with the garbage man as the President of the United States.
-
difficult for me to relate to this one gregg
sexuality is one of the things
that seems to have vanished from my memory
this one did not envoke a sexual/sensual response
(not for me at least)
guess it is because i sense something much more profound
in your words
~liz -
I thought this started out a tad melancholy as if it were a bittersweet memory and as it went on that same melancholy note was echoed throughout. The end was downright sad. But there was that erotic theme going through it. I think it's an excellent write. Emotion goes hand in hand with sex in my book. You can't have sex with someone without feeling. Unless you are totally hard core. Maybe that is just me though. Best of luck in the contest.
~Tawnya~ -
Wow, I cannot do much thinking with this one...lol. Except at the end of course... You've blown me away with this ( no pun intended)... I thought it well written.
-
Well, for starters, I don't or haven't found the imagery and graphicness of fellatio from a third party presence sexy at all, but the way you wrote this was quite yummy ..very sexy. Secondly...it's a sad story isn't it..the story of John, lost to his addictions and weaknesses ..killed by the mystery that engulfed him ..hmmmm, anyhow..very interesting.
-
Very well written Gregg, hope you do well in the contest my friend, we all learn a hard lessons in life.Love to you~Joan
-
...
I'm left blinking. It was a long, strange trip, and not precisely what I thought I'd get when I clicked on this.
I'm assimilating, though, and I'm going to try to give you some solid feedback.
First of all, you use the term "homo erectus" several (I think I counted three) times in the poem. The first time, I thought it was very clever. Each subsequent time, I was less enamored. You also use the term "nickel" to describe both John's nipples and your blow jobs. I'd suggest leaving the word with the blow jobs. It's ... just better there.
I love the short lines/long poem format. Very suggestive shape, and very appropriate.
For subject matter... You start off seeing John merely as a sex object... and by the end of the poem, you almost get me feeling bad for him and his dependence, not just on the drugs you imply he uses, but on the affection and self-sustainment that he gets from being the Young Buck to older men.
For erotica, I'm not sure that's altogether good. For love, yes, emotions should be involved. If you're talking about good ole fashioned fuckin', however... Usually not so deep, no pun intended.
Didn't read the contest rules, so if that's one of them, sorry.
Overall... A poem that definitely left an impression, and one that I will, most likely, reread in the future. Thanks for sharing.
- Centricity
Adding your comment:
1 - 12 of 12
