On the brink of a dream
cut by edge of a knife…
What you think is a scream
struck by sledge of real life…
Swears the jock on his knees
whose kink I’d look good in..
I talk to the trees
and they think that I’m wooden…
I talk to wed people;
define me a whore…
‘cause I’ve been spread eagle
with ninety or more…
I speak to my brothers
who weave and then merge in
with all of my lovers
I feel like a virgin
your cock is a tease
for gay twinks
secure in
the fact they are sleaze
and they stink
to the puritan
trees that I’ve spoken to –
(cost of a drink):
The pleased can be broken too;
lost on the brink.
Written by Jason Wright
August 21, 2022