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“As I Wiggle My Wondrous Wood and Wag Your Woven Tale” (Verse Two)

A “SKILL SEEKERS AND FANTASY FINDERS” SERIES-INFLUENCED PAEAN (For the first verse, click here.) …everybody could come on me i consider jesus i’m genius! as you howl and others head for the exit and i effortlessly waylay the hard line of those lyrics tapping into my own magicmaking innovating our innermost inclusivity in this subversive read more..

 

A “SKILL SEEKERS AND FANTASY FINDERS” SERIES-INFLUENCED PAEAN

AdamStrips

(For the first verse, click here.)

everybody could come on me
i consider
jesus i’m genius!
as you howl and others head for the exit
and i effortlessly waylay the hard line of those lyrics
tapping into my own magicmaking
innovating our innermost inclusivity in this subversive turn of service
up in arms
inwardly conflicted
this is my act of warfare on a forbidding begetter for the welfare of faggots fellow and forgone

Greek

uncivil in my unrest
discomfiting in my idiosyncrasy
i fluster a fascinated
ass-elated
crowd maddened and gladdened by my mirroring this supple soulfulness
sexy!
unsettling!
a naïve young man’s meddling in queer consciousness in his fresh native land
enforcing a fathered fetish to expose institutionalized
internalized homophobia
while straddling an intuited
future heterogeneity

Flowering1

my ego fills the void in uninformed gaiety as i provoke smiles from severe faces as we interface sense and ecstasy
and you mystifyingly make me to be a mystic with this veiled dipstick
disguised as a twink
denied of any inkling of a lightbulb twinkling
as I wiggle my wondrous wood and wag your woven tale as we welcome a warned this all the way to a well-worn that
to pierce the apocalyptic in a torn forthcoming…

AgetoAgePromo

…The life goes on and so must the song!
You gotta sing – again
The song born in your soul –

…i descend from the stage
a deserter no longer
in an outrageous display of righteous rage to loom over
collective laps in barely legal glee
collecting tips in an oversized g-string and constricted fists
the lights hit my nigh-bare mooned nod to knobbed nakedness
where the son shall someday have his g-spot shone on
is scantily shielded

Merriment

and i playfully beseech each married mary to meet me in prayerful merriment
in bearing this impassioned fruit
in this lewd show-womb as I come to know the mannish
as i spill from my binding
like a snaked temptation
and i gushingly claim muliebrity in placing my palms on uncertain bosoms
and brushing my behind on anonymous thighs
i flail with flair in the middle of the moment i’m in
failing to beguile my beer can-cocked buddies to partake of life’s mysteries
as they are wizened by my brazen breaking of a tacit concession…

BeerCanDick

(For poetic resolution, click here.)

Add a Response 8 thoughts on ““As I Wiggle My Wondrous Wood and Wag Your Woven Tale” (Verse Two)

  1. I think you’ve outdone yourself with this verse. What images it conjures! Even though you claim to be Simply Adam, there are clearly unplumbed depths. And I look forward to your continuing revelations of these depths both through your blog and in person!

    Paul, NYC

    • Likewise, Paul – and thank you. 🙂 Maybe you should outdo me next time with your own sultry verse – and salty versatility. XO Adam

  2. Like your first poem in this series, Adam, this one is wonderfully topsy-turvy, it seems to me that your “naive young man meddling in queer consciousness,” is dancing himself into aliveness but at the same time “failing to beguile. . .” Bringing smiles and collecting tips, but from “constricted fists.” And ever mindful of those wizened buddies who won’t join the dance. The plight of a dancing boy right? Feeling free in one whirl, and then not so free the next. Connected, then disconnected. Exhausting to watch. Exhausting to be. But how indefatigable you are, and how utterly, lovably audacious.

  3. Oh how I wish I could’ve seen that performance (even though I know that the me of that time would NOT have been able to handle it).

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