BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
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Bleak sin plantation
of bitterness bleach.
Darken my eyes
and study my lips.
Speak incantation
of gibberish speech.
Pardon my thighs
and bloody my bitch.
Night I decided was
night never chosen.
Blood suck syringe
pause rejoice afraid.
Sight that divided applause
never spoken.
And fucking the fringe
was a choice never made.
Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017
I see him undressing
through counting of sheep.
I see him caressing
around where I sleep.
I breathe in his secret
as you play the game.
I witness my weakness
for lust laced with shame.
This dream leaves me broken
though roused when it beckons.
I dream of these moments
more often than seconds.
Written by Jason Wright
November 4, 2017
The New Order
whispers into my ears
of 22 year old hauntings
in Jewish boarding houses,
communal showers
and a seemingly gay 1963 assassination.
Behind the whispers
are Dominican conversations,
New York realness,
Subway tuna on flat bread
and yogurt scooped in Harlem train station,
only a few blocks from the famous Cotton Club.
Hypnotic androids devour the starving
amidst a pride of dykes
who clearly believe that
orange really is the new black.
All American Boy
croons as I make my mistake,
as I make my escape,
but I will return
so save me my seat.
Written by Jason Wright
November 2, 2017