I’m tired of the gays, bring me a Grade A Faggot

Sam Herschel Wein

gays don’t care if you’re a good kisser,

all they care about is can you bonk bonk

right into their bonk bonk while they

bonk bonk your best friend til he

bonk bonks while he’s holding your

gaze and your hands but you can’t

bonk bonk with no passionate slowing-

it-down bonk no picking up the pace

while his legs rap around your bonk

bonk no staring into each other’s molar

mouths outlandish eyes biting shoulders

gripping throats bonk bonk bonk bonk

you think you can just shove that thing

in and bonk bonk til the cows come home?

if I had a monstera leaf for every one of you.

if I had a jockstrap for every jockstrap

that didn’t know how to properly love

a body. I’m giving up on the gays because

they’re too interested in just being men,

in just shoving in and bonk bonk bonk

like I’m not even there beneath them.

delight in me. make my armpit your forever

mustache scent. fall asleep under me

after I’ve spent 40 minutes massaging

your shoulders, suck my toes, press

into my calves, itsy bitsy spider your

fingers up my spine, and follow

it with kisses, follow me through

the world with kisses, baby, throw

my socked feet into the air and show me

how you’ve been practicing the clarinet

with your tongue, our sheets floorside,

our bodies lubed to slide, and with eyes

that hold each other through eternity let’s

give bonk bonk a try until one or both

of us is asleep, the other wriggling

to press the lamps into silence

 

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