"AMERICAN LANGUAGE," PART 3:

      UNSPEAKABLE LOVE ACTS

      © Alan Reade, 1996 and 2020










      Photo courtesy of Dixon Place, 1996


      View the Show Notes



      All Limits Respected

      Attractive Gay White M..."GWM"...seeks relationship. Be healthy, clean, disease and drug free. European, student a plus. Big chest and dick a must. Be very discreet; I have a boyfriend. No fats, fems, drugs, or diseases. Hairy guys a plus. Must be in-shape, attractive, under 33. I love sucking dick and you should too. No drugs or bi's. Asian, Hispanics, fems a plus. Cool, straight acting, great job, normal. The bigger the better. Looking for short-dick men to have good times with. Puerto Ricans and Blacks a plus. No crazies, fats, fems. Let me take your dick up my mouth and my butt. Brooklyn a plus. You have to be cute, because I am. All limits respected. Safe sex only no S&M. Treat me like the baby that I am. The more you stink, the harder I'll work to please you. The more you fart, the more it turns me on. Big feet are a plus.

      Serious calls only.


      Snowflakes

      The penis is
      an enemy.

      It maketh me to lie down where
        I do not belong.

      No matter how I
        writhe and twist,

      The space between me
        knows

      That I am alone,
        And that petal from the park

      Drifts like an electric snowflake
        Across my shoulders

      And down my spine;
        knows

      That I am the shutters
        From behind which my eyes

      Watch the storm,
        Not the storm itself.


      Dressing Up

      How can an ad tell the real story
      When the person who writes it
      Doesn't tell the real story?

      Speaking the unspeakable,
      Inch by column inch.
      But most desires, I don't see ads for--
      Just evidence.
      Evidence on subways, in streets, at work.
      In stolen glances and expressions
      Borrowed from movies.

      There's this guy I've seen at my office,
      Then later outside some dirty bookstore
      In his leather regalia.
      Trading a tie for a dog collar,
      Cufflinks for cockring.
      What's behind those glasses?


      Pornography in Four Parts

      I.
      I opted for power instead of money.
      Look where it got me.
      Look where it got me.

      I don't love you, but your animal smell turns me on.
      Little-boy looks--
      "Please don't, Daddy."
      But I've got the scissors. Pull them out. Snip. Snip.
      I snip the waistband on your running shorts.
      They fall to your ankles. Your abdomen shivers.
      You're trembling with fear, but to you this is pleasure.
      (But you shiver a little extra so that I won't
      Think you're enjoying this too much.)
      I cut your tanktop from your young, hard, rounded pecs,
      One shoulder and then the other.
      I adjust my sunglasses. You're trembling and hard.
      I jack you off and you come real fast
      All over my fingers. I make you lick them clean.
      Then I make you get down on your knees.
      I don't even take my pants off.
      You look up at me with those little-boy eyes,
      Young lips working so hard.
      I can't help it. I give you a pearl necklace.
      My pearls before swine.
      You're still all mine!

      There are so many things we lose.
      There are so many things we lose.
      So I opted for power.

      II.
      I, uh...I dream of raping my secretary, yeah,
      And she likes it (o' course).
      Uh-huh...forcing her to sit on my face
      While she takes dictation...
      Takes dick! Yee-ha! She loves it up the ass.
      (O' course! All women do.)
      She's the three-hole bowling ball, the office slut.
      All the guys cheer as I make her cum.
      I smile and suck a stogie
      As I blow my wad all over her pussy, yeah!
      Afterwards, I tell her to get me some coffee,
      And I warn her:
      "Hey, babe,
      You'll have to do better than that next time
      If you want more than minimum wage."
      Uh-huh, I say, uh, "You'll have to take more of me
      In your box, in your hole, in your head,
      If you really want to feed your kids!"
      I jerk off under my desk.
      Cars are honking outside.
      I wipe my hands on my expense report, uh...
      It was only a first draft.

      III.
      Baby, let me give you directions;
      Let me help you.
      Here, lean on me!
      Let me touch your arm.
      Let me. Let me.
      Hey, baby, what's wrong?
      What's wrong?
      You're very attractive, don't you know that?
      Here, let me help you.

      Isn't she something? Isn't she.
      What a gal!
      Here, baby, let me
      Help you.
      Whatsa matter? What's wrong now?

      (Heh heh heh.
      Didja see the knockers
      On that chick?)

      IV.
      Who says straight men don't like having anal sex?
      I hear 'em in the stalls sometimes
      Because the walls are thin between the men and the women's restrooms,
      Talking with each other stall to stall as they "do their business,"
      Like it's some social club.
      "Hey, Stan, howza wife and kids?"
      See, they love taking a shit together:
      It's group anal gratification,
      Don't let 'em fool ya.
      And not that I've been to these kind of places a lot, but hey,
      What's the first thing you see in those smut shops,
      As soon as you walk in?
      Anal-sex videos!
      And what's the next thing you see?
      Lezbo videos!
      And all the women in the videos have pigtails
      Or look like they haven't had a good meal for a long time....
      And these are the guys who think gays are sick!
      Yeah, for what? Having anal sex with someone of the same sex!
      And gawking at other men the same way these guys look at women!
      Yeah, I got a brother who's gay...so what?
      At least he ain't like these creeps,
      Coming to work in suits and ties,
      Grabbing my ass,
      And then sitting on the toilet with a paper
      Like it's some kind of
      Group jerk-off or something.
      Men are sick.
      Most of 'em, anyway.


      The Gentleman (an Operap)

      Cardiovascular suicide--
      Cut to the scene, where you can't hide;
      No scene too mean for the powerful few--
      White shirts, nice perks, but who the hell are you?
      Say, workin' all day to be one of God's chosen;
      Got your eyes on the prize but your hands are frozen--
      Coronary,
      Ordinary,
      Nothin' you won't find in the dictionary;
      And a cut to the scene in a magazine,
      With your one-hand drift to somewhere not so clean...cut!
        Make a clean break, baby.
      Cut!
        Not so...pristine.
      Cut!
        Clean-cut, like your mama raised you.
      Cut!
        Cut...cut...cut...cut...cut...cut! Cut! Cut!

      (Gentlemen prefer blondes.)
      (Gentlemen prefer blondes.)

      Talk nice and low into the mouthpiece, dear;
      Tell me what you want me to do;
      And within the limits of the laws of this state,
      I know I can satisfy       you.

      Some boys like it from the front;
      Most boys like it from the rear:
      That way they don't have to look me in the face--
      That's how I know a gentleman from here.
      Oh, I know you're dying to hold me tight;
      Given half a chance, you could do me right.
      But would you still want me if I wasn't       white?
      Well, would you?


      Would you?



      Gonna buy me like a boat?
      Gonna buy me like a car?
      Gonna deal me like a card?
      Your small change won't get you far.
      Little boy, you're far from home.
      Little boy, you're all alone.
      So drop the coin for your great reward--
      You gotta pay for what you're asking for,
      'Cause I'm...your...heaven!
      Heaven!
      Heaven!
      Heaven....

      We're taught to be...animals,
      We're taught to be...saints.
      Work all day for that great reward, but...
      Rewarded I...ain't.
      The darkened doors...allure me
      From off the...damp streets;
      I get what I pay for...
      I can buy what I...see.
      But...I'm not like the dark riff-raff
      That...hangs around here--
      I'm not like the...prostitutes,
      Pimps, pushers, and...queers; no,
      The light is on when I get home,
      And she's...waiting inside.
      I can leave this world anytime...
      I don't have to...hide.
      I don't have to hide!

      Hello? Hello?
      Are you, uh...on the line?
        Unh-huh.
      Hello? Hello? Are you on the line?!
        Mmm-hmm.
      Ahmm...my wife doesn't understand me...
      Uh...neither do my kids...
      The only satisfaction I have is...
      Following my...id.
        Oh, well I know what all you boys want
        When the coin-drop lifts my door:
        You make puddles of white, puddles of light
        To clean up off the floor;
        And your light shines from below
        For all those in darkness, dear,
        So search through that wallet with one hand--
        That's how I know a gentleman from here.

        Oh, some guys never pay to look at me,
        'Cause they expect to get it for free.
        They wouldn't believe they're really         buying me,
        Like         you do...
      Like you do?
        You do...
      Like you do?
        Nnngh, you do!
      You do?
        Like you do! Ahhh! Nnghhh!
        Oh,         you do! Ah! Annnggghh! Anngggghhhhhhh...

        Sorry...that'll be         five more bucks!




      Sexual Guilt Blues

      I'm...between...a rock and a hard place;
      Which one is you? Oh, no matter, blame it on the
      Sexual guilt blues. Got your card in my pocket
      And your face in my head, not to mention
      Your imprint on my unmade bed from last night--
      Last night should never have happened!
      Last night was a shot in the dark.
      It doesn't compute; maybe that's because
      I'm not software, not soft where you got me
      There, between a rock and a hard place--
      I know the signs: the cute little stories and the flattering
      Lines, like "Baby, you're the best" repeated into the night,
      But I loved to watch you say it so I left on the light,
      Last night--Last night should never have happened!
      Last night was a deviation from the norm--
      These developing deviations keep me up the next night,
      So here I am true to form, between a rock and a
      Hard place...which one is me? Was I the one
      Who invited you so wantonly? Or was it just a dare?
      But a dare in these times provides a risk that runs
      Along parallel lines; I guess no one is safe
      From the terrible things that the heart and horniness
      Inevitably bring--We're not software, we're hardware
      Of the softest kind; because we'd all go crazy if we
      Lived in our minds; but last night--
      Last night should never have happened!
      Last night I was shallow, and you know
      How I was...why explain it? You never can tell...
      When you'll get between a rock and a
        Hard place.


      The Comfort Zone

      There are two kinds of fallout:
      Personal, and impersonal.

      And you say, without a word:
        Comfort me.
      I say,
      Humor me.
      Make believe my pillows and my silence
      Have done their work;
      Have created an obstruction around which you must dance.
        (Oh, please!)
      Acknowledge your spaces, real and imagined,
      As having grown smaller with me in the place,
      Crowding around you in a macrophage embrace.

      This pillow that I rest my arm upon
      Is burgundy, a large platelet.
      It does not move through this house, for
        This is frowned upon.
      (I try not to circulate where
        I don't belong.)

      So I crack my knuckles
        And I get out of bed,
      With the last of my sleep
        Through veins in my head;
      And you say: "Shh! Your cracking is too loud.
      You have to go!"

      "A little at a time, you'll have to go...."

        Your silence is too loud.
            I have to go.

      And if I throw pillows
      And mock you with an anemia of words,
        Comfort me.
      Make believe my pillows and my silence
      Have done their work.

      I'm leaving now.
        I am no comfort zone.