Wind and Fire
poems by Joseph Mahr

Untitled

testosterone laced combat boots
leaving unfertilized generations
clinging to life's dirtied sidewalks
NYC
each step
bringing him
closer
closer to that 4 floor walk up
cock throbbing
every flight
faceless nameless thoughts pulse
his mind
unlocking the door
smell of afternoon's trick
filling his head
room engulfed heavy breathing
last perspective john
pushed some buttons
tries to remind himself
"i'm a professional"
"keep my emotions out of it"
shot load on his stomach
reminds him
"i'm only human"
he picked up the Voice turned to the Help Wanted

MELTDOWN

Icicles thawing
off the roof
leave a puddle

Spent love juice
last night's trick
on mornin sheets
does something similar

Unlike the icicles
that next winter shall return
this trick never will
he's from Los Angeles
he doesn't understand icicles

Who does?

Untitled

tasting the saltiness
his love
cut into my nipples
scarred from the battle
our lovemaking

fucking clients
i'm singing this
for them
the clients fucking
someone else

i don't provide that service
my role
comes from a different film

unable to fully appreciate
sometimes i wonder
when can we dance
embraced in love
to whatever tune
our hearts hear

i weep from longing
hot tongue slides up my ass
sandpaper shivers
up my spine
deep belly moan

lips lock
my asshole kissin' back
my pussy is drippin'

he laps up the juice
come kiss me BABY
let me taste our love

funk
a breeze carries
your smell with a slight hint of Dr. Bronner's
your armpit
my nose
dance
through lace filtered mornin' sun

bathes us
in warmth
we dance to drums, pipes, and strings
our games
wake up the elements
call upon the power of the earth

energy consumed
energy dispersed

the bedsheet's electric field
charge in me
maximum voltage
hard dick pushes
into my willing hole

oh sweet heavens
let the four winds
rock me into oblivion
take me back home
and put me to bed

cock feels so good
want to do his laundry
grow older together
if he keeps givin' me his love

HARD LOVE HARD TIMES
don't want this lovin'
being done
ain't so bad
loneliness is the problem

i fell loneliness
in a world full of love

the sun
loves the lace
streams of love cover
spent bodies

lyin' in dryin' juices
love's left
society's coldness rules supreme

he hasn't heard the music
he hasn't joined the dance
he hasn't heard me
but still...we have loved

Q-zone
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Last modified: 1/14/97