Faces of Family
The face of Aunt Norris
when she saw me hanging
flyers for a gay poetry group
on a bulletin board.
The face of Uncle Weed
when he got the word from Aunt Norris
that I might be queer.
My face when he asked,
drunk off his ass, if I suck dick.
The face of Aunt Earline finding
out the news from Uncle Weed,
who found out from Aunt Norris,
that the nephew who loves her jelly cake
more than life, likes men the way women do.
The face Auntee Alice made
when it was whispered in her ear
by her daughter, my cousin, Chrissy,
that her nephew, the son
of one of her brother's, is a punk.
The faces of cousin Melvet and cousin Toni,
who used to give me free chicken at Popeye's
and all the burgers I could eat from Burger King,
that the cousin she never sees is a fag.
The face of the twins, Kee-Kee and Kenny,
finding out from cousin Sean in a game of gin rummy,
about the rumor that the 'ham' of the family,
is a faggot.
The wrinkles of Auntee Mable's face stretched,
her husband's mouth, dropped open, when they got wind
of the latest familial scandal that their nephew,
the cousin to her daughters,
Tameka, Monique and Kim,
the second cousin to their children,
plays for the pink team.
The face of Leisha getting the call in Virginia.
The face of Duane hearing of it in Wakulla.
The faces of Ebony and J.R. putting two and two together
after figuring out exactly which cousin, and being
none other than shocked beyond belief that I kiss and lie with
men.
The face of my uncle they call 'Chicken Man,'
the brother to sisters, the brother to brothers,
the father to son and daughters, and the ex-husband to
the ex-wife in Woodville,
hearing that I am an all out abomination,
a sinner, and a sodomite.
Jarret
I have never thought of you sexually.
I don't think I have ever given
a considerable amount of thought
to your sex. I want you to know
I have never thought of having sex
with you. I never developed a crush,
or had this ridiculous notion
of bringing you flowers,
or committing some other sappy act.
Never have I once thought of kissing
you or running my fingers through
your head of cute, black curls.
Oh, sorry. Sorry for calling your hair
cute. Slip of the tongue.
I didn't mean it. I want you to know
I have never pictured you with your shirt off.
You're my friend and I don't
have fantasies of my friends
with their shirts off.
Just so you know:
I don't wonder about the size of your cock.
Wondering if you're cut or uncut,
or if your balls hang high
is none of my business.
Let me just assure you
that I have never stared at your ass
while you walked.
Never have I had thoughts
of sucking your balls
or imagined you rolling
around naked in wet grass
wearing nothing but white tube socks.
Who in the hell would imagine
such imaginings? Not me, I assure you.
None of this has ever crossed my mind.
I've never thought of you fucking me.
I have never, ever had dreams
about your dick being in my ass
or my dick in your ass.
I don't think about my lips
around your dick, either
or your lips around my dick.
I know you don't want to hear
this, but it's true.
I have never thought of such things,
and I don't think I ever will.
Such thoughts do not run
through my head, baby.
Oh, sorry, my bad, didn't mean to call
you baby. It's not like I go around
calling guys baby. Especially you
of all people.
Just because I like my men bound and gagged,
rough around the edges, doesn't mean
I've thought of you that way.
I've eaten ice cream
off the asses of countless men,
but never, and I mean never,
have I thought of what it would be like
to eat butter pecan ice cream off your ass.
I've never imagined you pouring
hot candle wax on my genitals, either.
It's not you I think of when I'm
lying naked in bed with my cock in my hand.
You are not the one I think of when I come.
You are the last guy I think about.
I want you to know that.
I just want to clear that up.
[END]
© 2005 Shane Allison - Contributor's
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