Tag: Inspired by Shawn Foreman

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Contradistinction, FEAR & Numbers

On Brian’s July twenty-fourth
forty-second birthday
I’m wearing the “Allergic to Sunlight” shirt
that I bought in late summer two-thousand
to wear for my beloved Shawn (F)…
I include his last initial
because there were two Shawns of note that year.

I switch the E & A Trains on
forty-second street…

“Strike that! Reverse it!”

I almost miss that transfer
as I write about my Shawn R. experiences;
I was wearing the same shirt the night that I met him
in October two-thousand…
before we were lovers,
before we were friends,
and before he recently fucked me again;
bringing closure and revelations,
inspiration and fascination with all that this act entailed
and all that lay revealed in the aftermath.

Written by Jason Wright
July 24, 2019

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State of Independence Part IV

New location for
poetic censorship is discovered
days after Facebook nudes
are similarly desecrated…
Artists MUST be mad!

I think of Sour Girl Shawn
as I pull on Stone Temple Pilots
and walk to the train
on my journey to Brooklyn.

I bring tracks from CD #3
and Mood Swings sing me to poetry
between 168th & 145th.

I can’t remember
attraction to Boy in Orange;
attraction died ages ago
without my notice…
Still nice to see him if I’m ever so lucky.

Scribbler illustrates the back of my mind
as I tunnel through Manhattan
to deal with angry humiliating disappointment
which I refuse to surrender to
despite the temptation to ralph
on the sidewalks of NYC.

Written by Jason Wright
March 19, 2018

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Drunken Scribbles After Midnight

Flash on subway
shooting by green / blue couple
and I know that moment
from years before – – is that me?

Is that watercolor smear
a glimpse of my past?

But I don’t know him
and I never looked like the other guy.

Smashing Pumpkins want to stand inside my love.

People have told me I look like Billy Corgan.
Might as well say I look like Humpty Dumpty.
I couldn’t ever be put together that way…
even if all the queen’s studs rode me
for 16 hours straight.

You, sitting next to me:

KEEP READING WHAT I WRITE!
IT AMUSES ME. 🙂

Other song was used
in video of my making,
much to the outrage of a certain Boy in Orange…

I don’t even know the title and it’s on my fucking playlist.

I’d had a nightmare about concentration camps
with this for a soundtrack,
and I don’t even remember that dream anymore
so the song is free to be itself at last.

Drunk trans woman laughs at what I write;
you are no mystery to me and you need not
scream at the others, begging to be fisted.

Nice to meet you Billie. (I transcribe)

Do you only love yourself
when you drink?

Written by Jason Wright
September 27, 2017

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B.I.O. of a Nameless Lover:

I met you…
millennial,
and we were so young.

You made me alive
and then left me stung.

I loved you for years
then we drifted apart.

Time heals all wounds
yet ripped us apart.

In twenty-eleven,
long after we met…

We randomly crashed
and then cashed in our debt…

But the lust that we shared
and for years we had held…

Was long past it’s date;
by a kiss we were quelled.

Impunity spared us
in memories wasted…

Like missed opportunity:
that’s how you tasted…

In October
bedroom / shower / stairwell…

First time we fucked
was bitter farewell…

Bitter and sweet
and fragrant and gleaming…

Our lust disappointed
compared to our dreaming…

Although we played
quite well in our fashion…

Eleven years time
had drained us of passion.

It was love and was sex
and was brutal and sadness…

Was whatever survived
and revived from our ashes.

And we never talked again
after that day…

You turned to leave
and then I moved away…

Now we never speak
for our love has been strictured…

And all I have left
now of us is our pictures.

Written by Jason Wright
October 28, 2013

For Anonymous: You know who you are and that’s quite enough.

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