Wess Mongo Jolley ~ The Reconciliation

We talked our way through a few celibate months, exploring
what went wrong over and over, until it went from confusion
to clarity and then began to slip back to confusion again.

So instead of letting the clarity slip away,
we tied it fast with mutual hand jobs behind the dorm cluster
late one night, after Wolverine and his hot brother
whipped us into an “I need fur in my mouth” frenzy.

Later, we rediscovered lubricants in an art-deco hotel
room in Boston. And the sweat on my thighs and the tears
rolling off his cheek convinced me that clarity, certainty, and safety are overrated.

Now we see each other a couple times each week. He’s embraced
his ADD and worships at the Adderal altar. I practice denial and know
some skin will likely come off with the bandage.

He’s burning hot, spinning like molten glass
in the hands of an overworked and narcoleptic glass blower.
He longs for his own studio apartment, he says,
where I can bang him harder than an out of balance washing machine.

I want a tongue large enough to gather his sweat
like narcotic pollen and a belly large enough to drink from his tap
and feed it back to him again.

I guess I’m saying I love him.

I guess I’m saying my heart is a pit bull in a rape cage.

 

Wess Mongo Jolley is a poet and poetry promoter living in Vermont. He is Founder and Executive Director of the Performance Poetry Preservation Project (http://poetrypreservation.org), and is most well known for hosting the IndieFeed Performance Poetry Channel podcast (http://performancepoetry.indiefeed.com) for more than ten years. As a poet, his work has appeared in Off The Coast, PANK, The New Verse News, Danse Macabre, The November 3rd Club, The Legendary, decomP, Dressing Room Poetry Journal, RFD, Warrior Poets, and in the Write Bloody Press book The Good Things About America. He lives on a ten acre parcel in rural Vermont, with his partner, various members of his clan, a failing vegetable garden, and an unidentified monster that has been known to chase visitors out of the woods if they dare to venture too far from the light. He is an urban poet, trapped in a rural body. He can be found on the internet at http://wessmongojolley.com, and at mongo@wessmongojolley.com

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