BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
Everyone is naked.
Everyone is nude.
Under cover.
Under clothing.
Under censorship’s
well-meaning-ever-
watchful eye…
Big Brother insists.
And so
everyone stares.
We all are complicit.
If only we shared
what’s mislabeled illicit.
We all need to care
and we must not dismiss it…
We enter this world
and are labeled explicit.
Written by Jason Wright
January 24, 2019
I try to conspire
to knock your socks off,
I lie to liars
to get our rocks off,
They think I’m not strong
but I’m really a freak,
I prey on the wrong
who savage the weak,
I ravage the monsters
within my deception,
They feed my hunger
for pain and erections.
Written by Jason Wright
January 23, 2019
Walking into the cold city darkness
in my not-unpleasant,
whiskey warm stumble
toward Claritin-D
and embryonic friendship
with stunning young man
who unknowingly rips me in half
with answers I don’t have
concerning my partner’s state of mind.
The truth is
there’s been almost no time
to enquire
in new scheduled madness…
but the truth has
never felt more like a lame excuse.
On the way back to gay sports bar,
after kindness in complimentary
never-ending hallway
with the book that apparently nobody wants or needs,
we again stumble into unknown territory
on another subject I feel I should better grasp
as it borders on both
experience and uncensored friendships
which have somehow (again)
left me lacking coherence or apparent depth
upon current recollection…
Yet I must question if these memories
are accurate or merely rambled here
for dramatic effect,
for an audience who demands that I write
but refuses to listen.
The real truth,
the more appropriately honest
fortune cookie wisdom
crunches open
beneath Poetry Table instructions
for impromptu musings…
When all I’m thinking about
are new people
weaving in and out of my experience
which dangle here in disarray
to be encompassed later
in organized impressions.
Written by Jason Wright
January 17, 2019
Running so late
I’ll be early next week.
Turn head and cough
not a choice now for weeks.
Turn volume up
but I still hear them speak.
Fuck off!
Relax!
No need to be weak.
The sound of the waves
are foolish and young.
The singer destroyed
by the songs they’ve not sung.
Enter domain
of the violently hung.
Directions to where?
Please don’t let them come!
Written by Jason Wright
January 17, 2019