The Man (Betwixt Thirtysomethings)

Betwixt thirtysomethings
which no one can master.

Eclipsed by the flings
which grow from disaster.

Unseen by each other
we tumble hereafter.

Between one another we
stumble through laughter.

A man at the heart of us;
breaking and taking…

That man is a part of us:
waking and quaking…

Examine our lawlessness;
humbly and shaking…

The man inside all of us:
hungry and aching.

Amongst us he hides
and displays and divides;

discusses insides
and betrays and collides;

disgusted by nothing
which this man provides;

Us thrusting and blushing
is why the man thrives.

The man wants our souls
and our sex as well…

The man haunts our holes
and affects our farewells…

The man is the devil
and drags us to hell…

The man likes to rebel
without cause to tell.

The man is disruptive
but just below surface.

The man is corruptive
to slaves in his service.

The man is unnerving
but we all deserve this.

The man is a showman
and we are his circus.

The man is a duelist;
subtly jubilant,
brokenly flawless
when facing our youth.

He’s not an exclusionist;
not an illusionist,
openly honest:
embracing our truth.

The man is a gentleman;
shares with us: medicine:
compliments sprayed
and then rubbed into lather.

Man is adrenaline;
snares us with cinnamon,
documents splayed
that when snubbed do not matter.

The man as described
does not quite exist…

The uncircumscribed
subsist in abyss…

But unrecognized
they crawl from our thoughts
and unrealized
they sprawl in our spots…

They twist into something
we wish we could capture;

betwixt thirtysomethings
made squeamish by rapture.

Written by Jason Wright
October 12, 2019

For Christopher, Ahmed & Javier,
who inspired the seed from which this madness sprang.

48 Random

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

Fragments of Magic

“There were angels dancing at the Ritz”
on Devils Night I’m sure…

We spoke of church and God and pricks;
We’ve not been shy or pure.

We spoke of all our wicked tricks,
and mine outnumbered others.

We walked as wraiths
on River Styx
unencumbered by our lovers.

Your poison:
blend of gin and tonic;
mine you paid the price…

We drank it deep,
October Brew
was whiskey (fruit and spice).

Men from Barcelona laughed
as speeds of words were changed.

The ghosts we summoned from the past
to find ourselves explained.

———————

And still buzzing and eager
with all I hadn’t guessed,
brimming with the innocent malice
of covetousness,
blushing and bursting
at our sacred sabbat of salacity,
Ripe with long delayed spells
of audacity,

while finally finding my way
and understanding this puzzle piece
of this beautifully haunted city…
Cocooned in the simple joys
of communication, connection, lust and friendship…

with our ravenous unending thirst deceptively sated,
we headed down the yearning road
together.

(a whispered incantation “for curing hungry lovers”),

I don’t really know if you realize
how much I wanted to kiss you.

You sitting across from me
with that sexy half smile…

You,
asking if you could touch it?

If I’d been single
I’m sure I’d have kissed you then,
which in the moment
was brilliantly confusing.

I had to look away.
I couldn’t even look at you.
But I couldn’t stop smiling either.

That I managed to not kiss you
while glowing brightly
on Southern Comfort
and admitted appetite,
with the words you still refused to say…
well, apparently I have more self control
than I ever dared dream.

Perhaps you do too.

I freely admit this golden moment of desire
was a guilty craving pleasure come morning;
a cherished transgression
for which I’ll always be grateful.

You walked me to my train;
a perfect gentleman.

What a mystical happenstance
is this friendship that’s found us.

Thank you for your honesty
and your restraint.

Thank you for your confession
and your company.

And thanks for making the fantasy into flesh,
while keeping the flesh a complete mystery…

That’s a much more impressive trick
than any of mine.

Written by Jason Wright
November 5, 2015

For Christopher Tefft

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