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

See You Next Tuesday

My ex-husband’s wife is a cunt.

She messages me
about appropriating my memories
in a collage in which she dreams
I never existed.

She finds it so fantastic
that she attended a bar in the ‘90’s
where her husband was dancing
in a cavernous Detroit Ramada Inn.

Do I have any pictures without him holding me,
she asks?

No. I don’t.
I took him there
on our first date
in December 1995.

But I do have some pictures
that she can’t erase me from…

That night he climbed into my bed
and begged me to mesh
nakedly together
as I snapped photos
and told him I would not be his excuse
to sabotage his relationship
with this woman.

Aaron says this is because I have standards.
I doubt she would see it that way.

But I will not surrender my memories
and she…
will never know.

Written by Jason Wright
January 10, 2018

Another poem originating from April 2017 scribblings on a train.

Love Lessons

I hurt someone once
by being unfaithful…

The memory hurts me
but makes me quite grateful…

That I learned this lesson
and will not repeat it…

Even when others
might leave me quite heated.

For I can’t control
my passions / attractions…

But I can be faithful
within my own actions…

I may flirt and smile
with consent of my lover…

And I may imagine
that he’s with another…

And I may write poems
both sacred and naughty…

But only my partner
shares my bed and body.

I love that by this
our love is not lessened,

I love that he trusts me
and doesn’t feel threatened,

I love that he loves me
and I love him too,

I love that the words
that I’ve written are true.

Because someone once hurt me
by being unfaithful…

He was jealous and angry
and often distasteful…

I gave him my all
while he told mostly lies…

Even after the point
when we’d said our goodbyes.

So this new love is cherished
and acknowledged for rareness…

This love permeates
my every awareness…

I’m grateful that my love
with Aaron still thrives…

And maybe this love will last
all our lives.

Written by Jason Wright
Sunday, March 10, 2013

For Aaron, Mark & Michael

Life and Survival

In two-thousand-nine
my life was sublime…

Feeling finally whole
after such a long time…

But it wasn’t to last
and it wasn’t to stay…

I learned to survive
and forgot how to play.

Survival is fine
when that’s all you’ve got…

In two-thousand-ten
that mattered a lot…

But just hanging on
isn’t really like living…

Just understanding
is not like forgiving.

In twenty-eleven
my world fell apart…

I lost all that mattered
to me and my heart…

Yet still I survived
as a ghost of myself…

Until love brought me back:
I became someone else.

And that someone else
left in twenty-and-twelve…

And I left life behind
that I could save myself…

But there’s life and survival
and I’m caught in-between…

Perhaps I’ll choose life
in twenty-thirteen.

Written by Jason Wright
Tuesday, March 5, 2013

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