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when i was a babe,
i used to dream of having
The Power
to make any girl sexually attracted to me.
oh yes.

more than all the social anxiety
that fame could potentially bring me,
sex is
was
has always been my One Thing –
thank the evolutionary progression
of having it broken down on a napkin
while i was still in my single digits.

i wasn’t looking for a reverse gangbang –
as a teenager, that’s unrealistic –
but i thought it would be nice
if they all lined up outside my door
in a clump,
bottlenecking just to be the first.
ain’t gonna happen, Warren.
ain’t gonna happen.

when i was older
and my Power – my will
to imagine
and to make assumptions –
was stronger,
i used to dream of being a stud.
huge dick, ready whenever:
a breeding machine from January to December.
the lonely teachers who had sex with their students
would think it prudent
to pick this bone train over theirs’ in grade thirteen

but it’s two different things:
making love to breed
and fucking just to bang,
and you can’t have sex with air
but you can grind one out in the sheets.
ain’t gonna happen, my friend.
keep dreaming.

then
when i was a man proper
but only in number,
i thought
this Power can’t all be for naught.
so when i’d see some possible sluts
that made this grown-up little boy want to nut,
i’d stare at them to get that point across.

yes, staring.
oh look at me,
because you are so pretty

but not really.
you’re just the only one in my six degrees
and you’d probably look better
if you cut your bangs
and wore different clothes
that didn’t make you look like
a hobo
and washed
and educated yourself
once in a while…

shit, go away!
she makes a move first
and now i’m stuck on a date
with acne-face
because my co-worker was right:
i’m desperately unrestrained.
oh buddy,
keep on keeping on.

now i think,
wouldn’t it be nice
if a kind, pretty girl walked up to me
and said hi.
someone who came up from behind
and put their hand on my back
just so i know they care.
not expecting anything,
not assuming anything:
just pure
being.


someone with red hair –

dyed or natural
but red,
in a braid
and a skirt and stockings

and flats.
and glasses.
and rouged lips.
and manicured nails to scratch me with


or blonde…
maybe bleach-blonde pulled straight
with some purple highlights and
a slender frame, no ass
in tight leggings –
an adult orphan Annie,
trying to re-manifest
my own Beatrice
or Josephine…


i guess i get to
keep waiting.

//wd 3.9.2024

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