BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
Washed out yesterday
feels distant as dreams
this morning of desperate
deceptive rape confessions.
Did loving / fearing them
make all the difference?
If so, I should
swallow all of
their sorrowful shame
to wake so
inspired and spritely.
Written by Jason Wright
September 30, 2017
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
Four of us there;
though it’s hard to believe:
Bald Jason, Paul
and Darla and Steve.
The latter I stripped
in Ann Arbor fountain
before baring flesh
pressing into his bottom;
concealing our pact
(which they labeled obscene)
and that this healing act
had in fact made us clean.
The nerve that in public
made time seem to end:
Perving the lovesick
with crime through the lense
of twenty-one years
flashing by in a blur…
The party that wasn’t
for the people we were.
A moment of lust
that had built beyond reason,
Momentous trust
in the shadow of treason,
A moment of courage
acknowledged and shared,
Encouraged by touch
though we weren’t prepared
for the judgment of strangers
and friends left outside,
as we puzzled through riddles
with longing our guide,
But licentious struggles
are seldom rewarded,
For all our successes
we may have been thwarted…
For the world gazed in fear
as if love were contagious…
Our fumbled premiere
saw us stumble toward greatness.
Written by Jason Wright
September 20, 2017
I came here a stranger
embraced without a question,
You welcomed me here
and ensured my affection,
He’s broken and lost
and screaming inside me,
His pain is too much
and begins to divide me,
He learned not to eat
so that he could survive,
He’s making me sick
so that I’ll stay alive,
But he is confused
because he was deceived,
Our father told lies
that his children believed,
Little Boy Blue
always here to remind me…
And little boy fighting
is killing me kindly.
Written by Jason Wright
September 2, 2017
Camping together
like times that he’s had,
I can’t quite explain
why L.J. is sad,
Why gun to his head
is aiming at me,
Triggered by all things
that will never be.
I give him this time
to heal and reflect,
He feels so alone
yet our lives intersect,
I know he is haunted –
I know he’s a ghost,
I know that they hurt
what he wanted the most,
But he’s not alone
because I’m always near,
And though he is gone
I know he is here…
I know he is sad
and I’m paying attention,
I’m holding him close
in this time of reflection,
So don’t be afraid;
I am strong and can do this,
It wasn’t his fault
and I give him forgiveness.
Written by Jason Wright
September 2, 2017
For Little Jason and his father David.
She with the shiny black rose hair
smiles ancient rictus grin:
compliment received…
will I age like that? Like a papercut?
Blood drips to water stores
removed from dry bone rattle;
a fire of truth that burns us all away.
Kindness amidst violence
threatened with every raised voice
of children pretending they they
are even a quarter of her age.
Her smile tattoos my brain;
a giddy afterimage to ponder as
Aaron turns away to keep me close.
Written by Jason Wright
October 23, 2017
My eyes have been burning
I dream they are bleeding
allergic reaction
to book I am reading
I’ve read it before
but it’s still just as haunting:
an honest admission
of hardship and wanting
excerpts of life
which echo my own
reflected in eyes
of men that I’ve known
moment and whisper
the sound of my breathing
the fall of a zipper
where wanting is needing
the touch of a stranger
or the thrill of a glance
safety and danger
of an old circumstance
that creams little death
under weight of his stare
wet dreams made flesh
as our souls are laid bare
in each conversation
and every discourse
each revelation
is beyond intercourse
as we come together
in solace (like marriage)
his is a volume
I always will cherish.
Written by Jason Wright
August 23, 2017
innocence
amorous
virtuous
sensuous
yearn and return
repressed stream
of consciousness
permissible trips
stain his kissable lips
and he ghosts the tips
lest his secret life slips
on a dissonant grace
obsessed across nations
his innocent face
is repressed revelation
disapproval incurred
by his indiscretion
a removal of words
is that a confession
deletion implies there
was something to hide
you complete the affair
when the truth is denied
is message deleted
admission of guilt
this lesson repeated
by tears that are spilt
Written by Jason Wright
August 22, 2017
Trailer music in my ears,
Subway void of virgin fears,
Smiling just to feel so free,
All the others here with me.
All are quiet; all are calm,
Softest whisper sacred psalm,
Breathe it in and simply smile,
Simple truth makes life worthwhile.
Written by Jason Wright
August 21, 2017
Tonight
after haunted days of painful painlessness
a siege of sirens comes
to serenade, seduce and succor…
to simplify…
to supply me with solace
as I drown
beneath waves of mutilation
(with apologies to Pixies).
My Aaron sings to me
his soothing tones
which are less like music;
more like verse…
strumming my ribcage
beneath salt water seas,
we swim naked for hours
through tears we’ve not shed.
The other Aaron,
the Aaron between us,
he haunts through
photograph, text and memory,
echoing across time and geography
to be one with us again.
There are naked hungry men
beneath those shadowed depths,
those sombre shades of green
lit by melancholy movie soundtracks.
The mermen dive for pleasure
and breathe truthfully through gilled
fantasy lies which excite and entice me
before dragging me down to my death.
In amber and glow,
through fogged glass of sunken ships
she is weeping her mermaid crocodile tears.
This is not truly Jamie;
this being is not my sister or my therapist.
The former doesn’t speak to me, even on land
and the latter will soon be lost to me –
just as I left her (unforgivably)
in the haste of my waking nightmare.
She will forgive me this unforgivable sin.
She is strong but she is wounded –
like me,
underwater –
like me,
and she will rise again –
like me.
Could this truly be her after all?
I smile and wave goodbye to her
but she can’t see me until Thursday.
Mermaid simulacrum smiles just the same…
but here my visions come to an end.
Written by Jason Wright
August 17, 2017
For Aaron Squared & Jamie Bloom