either way I’ll be talking about my poems
I was the kind of youth
Who aspired to live a life
As a man of maxims.
I read too much Oscar Wilde
At a formative age
In fact
The day after I lost my virginity
I watched a production of A Woman of No Importance
And I remember quipping
For years afterwards
That it was the second event
That gave me more pleasure.
The bon mot I dropped
The most
Was one I found terribly droll:
Cocaine, I’d say, is the same as sex:
I only want it
When I’ve recently had some.
And though the years have passed
And I am no longer a partyboy
I am aware
As I age
That sexual hunger
Is more present
Than I’d hoped.
It does not go away with neglect,
But I do not struggle,
When in full mental health
To find someone
Who will touch me.
Dating is cheaper than cocaine
But sometimes the conversations it results in
Are just as tedious.
Either way,
I’ll be talking about my poems.
Horror Sleaze Trash 