Old Wood

Old Wood

That garden bench

is tired of hearing me whine

about my closet homosexuality

 

It has lived

through all my STDs

and inferiority complex driven

late night public restroom gay sex

marathons

 

It has served

as a warm spot

on which to ignore my latent hatred

for my mother

that b***h

 

makes that corner

completely gayer than AIDS

 

Now my dong is weather beaten,

discoloured,

dry and cracked from not using good lotion..

 

It needs fresh sea men

a few moments

of attention from the gay truckers

 

revitalizing oil

at the truck stop

rubbed

into aching,

bruised timbers from gay truckers

slamming my anus

George Michael style