BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
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The day after dreaming
of lakes and of drowning
with lost lovers speaking / escaping / surmounting…
The day after Brian
had turned forty-two
(though former Hawaiian was lost to me too)…
The day that a cousin
came out to heartbreak
and family treasure was lost in a lake…
When Aaron confessed
to the death with his crying:
Was my dream of sex
just prediction of dying?
Written by Jason Wright
July 30, 2018
In the dream, on Brian’s 42nd birthday,
Aaron drives into lake,
which covers family riches.
And back at campground
I find well adjusted Michael,
with his playful latin lover,
who allows us our alone time
to heal, cuddling naked
and sharing our long overdue kisses,
shared decades after repeatedly fucking
for close to 10 years
straight.
This is something
that he wanted for so long
and I try to let him breathe
and I’m surprised to learn
they fixed that years ago –
I didn’t know that they could.
He’s happy and clean,
old with regret yet somehow
young in the satisfaction
of decisions finally made.
There was
no wife –
no children –
no victims –
and he was saving himself
before drowning in his own lies.
Written by Jason Wright
July 24, 2018
After night of
angry exhausted questions…
Loaded with
doubt / jealousy / rejections…
Expressing the pain
and the pleasure we feel…
My bitch of a stomach
could not seal the deal.
Tears fall from eyes
I’ve rinsed and repeatedly
cleaned as I’ve organized
words that defeated
and tore me asunder
like peace disappeared
with the heat of the summer
and ice of my fears
with soul crushing weight
of tears from my lover:
We all know the heart is the loneliest hunter.
I’m so very tired
and I’ve hated this night…
But my symptoms are clear
and I know what is right.
I hurt him with thoughts
that he never guessed.
Jealous reminder
of that man undressed.
Devouring fear
that seldom ignores me,
As Aaron convinces…
As Aaron implores me
to live my own life
in spite of my sickness.
My life of death
undone by our quickness.
Tonight illness won
and I know deep regret.
Time to wake up
and I haven’t slept yet.
Written by Jason Wright
July 21, 2018
Distance demeans us
for now fourteen days,
Distance between us
obscene with clichés,
The grace gleaned atonement
as our love is scoured
in space between moments,
minutes and hours.
The senseless deceit;
seduction perverted,
Less than complete
destruction averted,
Obsessed as I seek
prince burned by charade,
Less than a week
since I learned he betrayed.
From dreams bleak
come night scares;
enshrouding the outcome,
Two weeks from nightmare
I strive to arouse from…
Two weeks resorting
to doubt, lies and whimpers,
Two weeks to sort out
the dream signs and whispers,
Two weeks derided
by sickness and penis,
Two weeks divided
by distance between us.
Written by Jason Wright
July 20, 2018
For Aaron & Brian,
2 weeks to the day.
He stops for the man
who is married to dread
and he tops for that man
who is buried in bed
he doesn’t confess this
just gives me his mixture
to soothe and undress with
dishonest elixir
which damns us together
in lust and veracity
stranded forever
in thrust haunted chastity
you envy this bleakness
where no one consoles me
Men need their secrets
as someone once told me
for honesty complicates
just as deception
consciously motivates
trust as erection
as I read the words
unconfessed by my spouse
I die when: “I want your dick in my mouth.”
the pain is intense
but the lust is mutation
insane that incensed
I conduct masturbation
Written by Jason Wright
July 15, 2018
One year ago tonight
you whispered
into my unhearing ears
with the flick of your tongue
across my lover’s desperate flesh
over oceans of thought, fear and lust
you joined that which was mine
while never knowing or desiring
my anatomy.
You, who knew not
to be yourself
except reflected in strange foreign eyes
which we have separately drowned in,
we have shared that beautiful body.
I am nothing to you
but an invisible partner
who plagues not your existence,
a ghost that is haunted
by tiny little deaths
which interred you both
on sweet Budapest fabrics
to the strains of Porgy and Bess.
You were musical phrases
that created a distinct melody
of an already exotic piece,
a hunger I may yet understand
but will never truly experience.
That night I was lost in your tonal pattern,
deafened by an overwhelming silence
which inspired want and hatred,
pity and indifference,
a longing that may never be satiated.
I say “your”
though the stress was not singular –
it was a harmony
that brought me to tears,
tore at my soul & ripped me apart,
boiling me down to my essence.
You were a crucible
by which all fear was melted away,
an intersection in which,
by way of paradox,
he and I were joined in honest surrender,
a yielding so keen
that it’s wounding pleasure
healed the breach,
sealed the rift,
and eased the strain
until nothing could keep us apart.
Written by Jason Wright
June 25, 2018
For Zsolt Krasznár & Aaron Sanko
I wake in that dream
with your glare there beside me.
I take in that cream
with a fifth deep inside me.
Our translucent grind
has a mind all it’s own.
Our movement is timed
to the grime in our bones.
Our union and flow
erects no objections.
Communion is slow
but perfects our erections.
We vibe one another
and cleave to sensation.
Describe someone other;
believe penetration.
Believe in the truth
of the lies of this action.
Achieve what in youth
was denied satisfaction.
You’re glazed in the bleeding
of sugar and spice.
I haze in the dreaming
and make you feel nice.
I scream in delight
as I ache to premiere you.
I dream this tonight
and wake to be near you.
Written by Jason Wright
May 31, 2018
I’m one half of a couple
laying one side of a bed…
should I cry or laugh or cuddle?
I can’t escape my dread
city
country
heat & frost
& contradictions keep
me hungry and exhausted
but I cannot eat or sleep
you haunt me
without equal
as I thunder
through our hallways
I want you
resting peaceful
yet I hunger
for you always.
Written by Jason Wright
May 26, 2018
For Aaron & Little Jason
It’s Thursday night
and I have my group.
Aaron leaves before me
for his meeting
and he kisses me goodbye.
Other Aaron,
the Aaron that we share,
that Aaron messages us both
about loneliness and homophobia.
Mark messages me about my Aaron’s former employers.
I see that Michael is in town and let him know
I’ll be in the village around nine,
near Stonewall,
on Christopher Street.
Christopher calls me on the train
and though the timing is down to the wire
I tell him I’ll stop by if I can.
Poetry pours out of us in faster than usual process.
Michael can see me but I meet him at his hotel near Times Square
to be closer to Chris’s Washington Heights.
We go to Blazing Saddles, Rise past Posh / Industry
to Ivy because the straighter crowd isn’t obsessed with RuPaul.
He drinks margaritas. I drink whiskey.
We talk about our decade old relationship;
how he had fallen for me before I had fallen for him,
only much too late – such terrible timing,
but at least we’re friends now!
We talk about Mark, who messaged me earlier,
how our relationship / friendship extends over years,
and I told him about Aaron / Aaron & Christopher.
I walked him back to his hotel with a quick kiss
and a big hug
before catching the A train (from 42nd to 175th)
where I stumble
sleepily to Christopher’s new apartment
and we crawl through someone’s bedroom window
to take in the remarkable view.
Later he tells me about life
and we trade stories before I stumble home
in the dark Friday morning.
Saturday, Aaron drives Michael & I to
the New York City AIDS Memorial.
Michael saw “Afterglow” the night before;
a wonderful play filled with naked men,
and believe me, I’ve seen them.
We walk to the Stonewall National Monument in Christopher Park,
the Stonewall Inn, past the Ad Hoc Collective Cafe
(where my poetry meetings are held),
past PIECES and then catch a train down to Chinatown & Little Italy
so I can get some jewelry.
Later we head to Central Park by way of Marvel headquarters
and the Columbus Circle Shops to meet some of his friends
who we somehow never connect with.
We walk to the Bethesda Fountain
which we love because it’s in “Angels in America”
and it’s where the Avengers parted ways…
before heading back to Columbus Circle so he can attend
“Naked Boys Singing” and I can catch a train back to the Heights
so I can shower, put on something warmer and go meet Aaron
and several of our friends for a birthday celebration
in Jock Douchebag Heaven
which as it so happens,
ends up being in the Meatpacking District.
Written by Jason Wright
April 15, 2018
The gentleman next to me
is charming in his quietude…
when he speaks he is kind
with some type of speech trouble –
says he’s headed down to lower level of Hell,
Beaver, near Wall Street.
He wears a wedding band
made of gold
on his left hand –
his right hand looks broken
while the left hand holds a dusty old flip phone…
Aaron hands me his fancy bells & whistles
and I smile as I read about the war
Sue is waging on my behalf:
Aaron loves me.
Written by Jason Wright
April 11, 2018