Out of print but can be found on Abe
after reading Pink Flamingo I had to read this Dean’s other published work.
To have poems about gay sex, unambiguously about sex is delightful – even when the feelings are complicated – not all the sex is good, not all of it is life affirming – but it is spoken about with honesty – we are given access to truth.
One poem…
More than this
I knew, before we’d even spoken
My skinny-jean-clad punk-rock poet
Tattooed and pierced
Painted and punctured
Denim, metal and ink
Pint glass in one hand
Poem in the other
Mouthfuls of beer dislodge illicit imagery
And forbidden metaphors
Crumpled A4 sheet casually discarded
As the last lyrics leave his lips
He leaves me naked
On a tobacco and cannabis speckled rug
On his living-room floor
Wrapped up in a blanket, damp with semen, lubricant
And the cold tea we spilled in our frantic lovemaking
‘I’ve got to go to work,’ he says’ ‘You can let yourself out.’
I guess it’s nice to know I can get what I want
But maybe I should want more than this.
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