Walking around the booths,
Stalls, open doors, flickering screens
Trying not to step on gum or whatever,
I seek and scan, hunt and prowl.
Tramping along a dirt trail,
Through trashy, littered woods,
Checking out the occasional guy there --
Looking for that magic chemistry
Sitting in a bar, senses prickly;
Hoping not to hear
Sarcasm, criticism, one-upmanship,
Cracks and cruel comparisons.
Trying to spot a likely prospect
To risk esteem in an attempt.
Hoping for romance to appear,
Wishing for another occurence of
Rare, wondrous magic
Him and I clicking,
Going home together.
Just a simple gathering of the Gay & Lesbian Activist Association of New Birch and Sipsboror (GLAABS) and we plunge down a hilarious ride to perdition.
‘I have to go back soon,’ says Adam one afternoon. Yes, I know he has to go back soon. He has to go back to London and to his job and his apprenticeship. He has taken the maximum number of days leave – he has taken his entire Summer holiday in the Sp
During the 1960's a young soldier struggles with basic training, a bully sergeant and his own inner demons. A tale of struggle, redemption and survival.
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Love reading your work...
You have amazing talent..
~~Linda~~
Interesting write, Michael. I could sense the urgency in your well worded prose.