Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry

from sorrow to serenity

Stuck
 
I’m stuck on stuck, I’m stuck
I’m sticking like an old HiFi needle caught in the big round black 33rpms,
around and around, the needle stuck in the groove between a thought
or two notes and it sticks, stuck I’m stuck
stuck on young guys I’m stuck on young guys I’m stuck on young guys
stop asking me to quell my yearning
reaching up to heaven, touching Ganymede
the loveliest, Zeus’s favorite
no scenario that’s beyond the land of Onan
I’m stuck on young men, they sweep away my heart
I don’t touch, I don’t play, I don’t fuck, I don’t pay
I’m stuck on young guys,
stuck on stuck being stuck
I go away for the day
the needle is caught in that groove
neighbors are banging on the door stop the noise
It makes no difference where I’m at
I’m stuck on guys, pretty young men, fairy queens
little young men who remind me of me
I’m stuck and the damned needle won’t fix itself
admiring from a distance god’s loveliest
young men
he has a name
I’m stuck on his name
stuck saying his name
stuck looking at his photo
I’m stuck
I’m driving the record crazy because there’s no flip side

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2 thoughts on “from sorrow to serenity

  1. Love the choice of metaphor. Our minds are much like a scratched record, repeating something over and over on an area that has been damaged. And only the astute and nimble caring of a kind hand can move the needle on to the next groove.

    Like

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