“Things Like That Drive Me Out of My Mind”

I got Aaron to watch the 1997 film “The House of Yes” a long time ago. It’s a favorite of mine, based on the 1990 play “The House of Yes: A Suburban Jacobean Play”, by Wendy MacLeod.

Yesterday, knowing my love of the film, he took me to the Mannes School of Music to see a workshop of a new opera adaptation of the same work, which was a fascinating experience. The performers were students; they were all great. And I got to meet many of the creatives in passing. I also spoke briefly to the 2020 Pulitzer Prize winning Michael R. Jackson, who wrote the book, music, and lyrics for “A Strange Loop”, which I had loved when we saw it on Broadway – but I didn’t realize who he was until after we left. No. I talked to him about John Carpenter and the film “They Live”, which was on a shirt that he was wearing. lol

Years ago, also in part based on my love of “The House of Yes” but also my fanboy crush on Ewan, Aaron also took me to see “The Real Thing”, a play that then starred Ewan McGregor, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Cynthia Nixon and Josh Hamilton. I met them all briefly after the show and they were delightful; we got all their signatures on our poster – and I told Hamilton that I was a huge fan of “The House of Yes”, in which he played Marty – and thanked Ewan for “Velvet Goldmine”. <3

Our Time in the Desert

There was a boy…

There was a summer boy
who had us call him Sebastian…
and though this name fit him perfectly,
I was never quite convinced
that this is what his unseen
unknown parents had christened him.

He had traveled cross country
to visit a friend of mine
whom he had never met
or seen face to face.

The friend and I were only ever friends in name only
because our friends were friends with one another…
but we never once connected without the others…
and if he was blind to what was actually happening,
well, I wasn’t going to cross a line
or clue him in;
not when he’d often been as cruel
as the summer wind which
drew us out together that long ago
summertime evening.

Summer boy Sebastian
from exotic southern state
had beautiful teeth
and a slight but sexy drawl
to all his decidedly decadent
turns of phrase
which spoke of unvoiced attraction.

We never acknowledged this aloud
but it was an understanding
between us,
like we were the couple
and everyone else had tagged along with us
for the voyeuristic fun of it all.

Hot, sticky Michigan summer night –
the kind of night that usually drove us
to backwoods skinny dipping pond,
instead lead us to old haunted
devil worshipping sorority house,
near the fancy two-story McDonald’s
where Anthony used to give me free fries…
where we collected on the asphalt
like mardi gras gutter trash
as we exchanged stories…
as Sebastian subtly signaled,
slyly suggested and studied my every glance
with a scholar’s dedicated devotion.

Later, after pink moon drives
with mosquito infested breezes
I saw snow fall in the sweltering desert
which he had finally gifted me with,
ice crystals catching on eyelashes
and melting on our lips
as we said our final goodnight.

I never saw him again.

But he never slept with our companions either…
He waited until the coast was clear
and then fled the scene
before any of us knew
what the night had taken from us…
leaving us as haunted and questioning
as the abandoned and seemingly evil sorority house.

But those moments before abandonment
are always remembered with a sad sort of smile
when I stumble across the miracle he gave me
when he must have known our time
had finally come to an end.

Written by Jason Wright
April 30, 2018

The Balcony Scene

He has to leave. We’ve not slept.

We fooled around all night
while his parents wondered where he was.

We’d met at a kind of masquerade party,
where he fed me tequila,
but that was a different night.

The night we met I went home
with him and his friend David,
and although I slept naked between them
nothing was allowed to happen…
because all I wanted was him.

Looking back, I wonder…
what would have happened if I’d not objected?

Would our threesome have continued?
Would we all have remained friends?
Had they ever shared a lover before?
Did they do so long after I was gone?

I’ve never considered any of that,
but it doesn’t really matter.

Back in the moment, after our night
spent together and he’s still leaving.

He’s not even leaving my place
because I’m staying with a friend.

Was it in Diamond Heights?

“It’s funny how beautiful people look
when they’re walking out the door.”

Even then, I heard those words
as I was watching him go,
feeling the joy of what we’d just shared
and the sting of our parting; back then I’m
not sure if I’ll ever see him again.

I grab my camera, walk out onto the balcony,
call his name and snap the picture that confirms
Toni Collette’s line from “Velvet Goldmine”.

He was beautiful.
Facebook lets me know that he’s still beautiful.

And my many naked memories are more beautiful
than waking life would seem to deem possible.

Written by Jason Wright
February 27, 2018

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