in a dream house with Trevis and Sheridan
they're in the attic now
laying on the bed
mattress on the floor
i want to participate
but they're spurning me
i feel hurt
what are they doing?
why should i be doing what they're doing?
on the bottom floor
my father was trying to get me to take my cock out in the dinner booth at the restaurant
he wanted to compare the size of our balls
(this isn't RL Larry... this is a dream version... more like a hot bear guy)
then we're cuddling
and it's not my dad anymore
it's this man i've wanted to be with for a very long time
in the kitchen
i wanted to make chocolate chip cookies
i mixed up a batter for it ... years ago
the best oils
ground cherry pits
and expensive chocolate chunks...
but it's been sitting in tube-bags for years, now
maybe it's time
to warm it back up...
i turn the oven on "warm" and plop them out on the cookie sheets
and is it a day or a week that goes by when i forget about them?
with my father in the booth at the restaurant
with trevis and sheridan
i try to prove myself
through the city streets
some movie set like thing
ancient brick streets, walls
or it's LA
or it's an old Harlem
(am i being chased? followed? spectated like a sport?)
i run into a dead-end alley
well lit for the performance
a large bull of a black man lands down from up above
shaking the ground with his entrance
and many other (but not as huge) land around him
i, in stride, run towards him
leap into the air
and come down perfectly vertical onto him
he lifts his arms to catch me
and we are a pillar
i am making love to his beautiful shoulders, arms, chest
have i captured the flag? the prize? have i proved myself?
my art isn't making collages in an attic
though i love them
and have lost their counsel and audience
i am in my arena now
whatever it is i'm doing
he comes back with me to the house
this big bull
or my dad from the booth?
maybe i've got a harem (of course)
and he tries one of the cookies
which isn't cooked
and it looks quite gummy... brickish..
he sucking the chocolate out
is it good?