San Francisco and Chuy Completed!

“San Francisco was awesome!

My first reading in SF was at at Viracocha, hosted by The Word Party featuring a jazz band(sax, bass, percussion) backing the poets. The hostess made a comment during the intro about poets and sex poems. I was the 10th of maybe 30 poets and the place was packed. Great place to read; basement of a antique store, dark with a well lit stage. There was beer and wine so I was at ease with a drink in hand. Maybe in response to the hostess or maybe because this is the norm, since it seemed that many there were regulars and the hostess was calling them out, several of the poets that preceded me read sex poems.

With the door opened I decided to enter the fray with an all sex set; two poems since time was limited. ‘Enough’ is a poem I do with Pruitt Igoe and goes great with music followed a short poem of lust titled ‘crass’.

crass

what if the poems
are not all pretty
full of sugar and flowers

there are raw words
coarse thoughts
that need to be written and voiced

what will their reception be
recoil
withering critique

some things are insistent

my cock presses against my pants
when you approach

***

Enough

Sure
I want to hold
tenderly caress
look deep into
but I also want to

spank you

with my hairbrush
spatula
spoon
impress your flesh
paint a pattern of heat
lay my cheek on your braised cheek

and linger

check the temperature with my tongue
gauge with a taste
lay a course of saliva
tickle your down
and dare you to whimper
and long to hear just that

I want to restrain you
with improvised bonds
watch you wrestle
wriggle
writhe
lay my hands on you
feel your muscles contracting
relaxing
undulating

I want to apply pressure
pleasing
releasing
teasing
open my hands wide
engulf your breasts
encase a handful of thigh
entangle the nape of your neck
administer a slap

feel my palm tingle
feel your ass jiggle
feel your skin sizzle
and dare you to whimper

I want to smell you
strafe the unmentionables
nostrils to pits
inhale the trail
from your throat to your mound
nose in deep and hope to drown

sweat covered and salty
slightly bruised and sticky
sweetly exhausted you cry meekly

enough

C. Theodore Walker, one the regular poets, calls the spot the V-Cave. Will be back there for sure.

More on the trip to San Francisco in another post.

Chuy has been completed! For the first time ever a time lapse of the art being done!”

Viracocha

©ted washington 2011