Gay Sex

Gay Sex

by Patrick Cash

 

Let's talk about gay sex baby

Let's crow about its beauty daily

Place away your shades of shame

And trace in me a sacred flame

Lend me your lips, boy

And of your muscled hips

I will speak and enjoy

Give me the words

Of your body's supple burn

And into silver zodiacs

I will write the codes

My desire in you has cracked

Of naked bodies and buttocks

And cocks and jockstraps

My tongue between your shoulderblades

Tattoos them with my name

That I will dare to speak

And dare to speak again

Down into the dip of your back

My mouth will murmur rapt

Then I let my whispers lick

First one gluteus muscle

Before on to its perfect brother

Hear my hands

On your flesh slap

And the parting of your pretty ass

To reveal your winking, pink anus

In the hush of my first kiss

The sensation's racing

Instantaneous

Spiralling up your spinal cord

Exploding into your loosened brain

Uttered as a gasp and a word

That was there from the beginning:

 

“Fuck”

 

And I say, “yes...”

 

I'm not talking about gay sex

To shock or cause stress

I'm talking about it

Because no one else is

Our gay comedians

Are asexual chameleons

No sex, please

We're gay and on TV

 

And I've heard my straight mates say:

“I don't mind it happening

As long as I don't hear about it”

Well here, now, it's happening

And it's hard and it's fast and it's racing

A gasp and a whimper

The sound of flesh whacking flesh

Of my penis inside him

It's sweat dripping from one man to another

A soaring, writhing ecstasy of kissing

It's in your face

It's in your head

It's in the space

Where angels fear to tread

 

Because my sex is part of my identity

My sex makes me and shapes me

And I’m not going to stop it and lock it

And shut it up

Not for you and not for me

My sex is laced with shame

My sex is the wrong sex

My sex was illegal

My sex instils fear

It's parks after dark

And it's public toilets

And it's AIDS

Like David Stuart said:

“When your parents think of sex

They see your sister married

You and your boyfriend

It's shit on dicks”

My sex is a sin without name

And try telling this

To the two 20-year-old boys

I interviewed last week

Who both have HIV

Because they're not told

About gay sex in schools

And they're not told

About transmission

And the condom, they are told,

Is there to stop pregnancy

 

But lastly my sex is my gift

To be shared safely

With rising sensation

Of move and thrust and kiss

My sex lives in excited eyes

It whispers between fingertips

My sex is in his smile

It's in his pleasure

And what we share together

My sex speaks now and always will

Of the word we all call love

 

Patrick Cash is a queer journalist and creative writer based in London, prominently known for hosting two LGBTQ-friendly open mic nights: the poetry and performance night, “Spoken Word London," the gay men’s well-being forum, “Let’s Talk About Gay Sex & Drugs,” and the theatrical showcase event Dark Fabrics Cabaret.  He writes on various subjects, including much arts/culture, and works as Assistant Editor for QX Magazine. Find him on Twitter @paddycash.

 

Cash’s main focus when writing poetry is emotional truth. He believes we are sometimes smothered by falsity in the modern world, from social media performance to creepy algorithm-led advertising, and good art cuts through that superficiality. If you achieve authenticity of feeling in your poem, then that truth will resonate deeply with your audiences, whatever your surface differences of sexuality, gender, or race.

 

Cash believes it is important for queer poets to be heard to engender understanding of the queer experience. He said that if you’ve grown up straight, male and privileged, then queerness may seem like a very alien—even threatening—concept to you. Yet all humans understand what it is to feel different, and innate concepts like shame and hope. Queer poets not only empower queer people, but use their words as conduits for empathy.

 

When asked about the future of queer poetry, Cash said, “Greater visibility, more mixed queer/straight readerships and more mainstream literary recognition. In some ways, I feel the age we’re living in of LGBTQ rights and queer literature is partially comparable to the Harlem Renaissance bringing black literature to mainstream America in the '20s. Queer poetry deepens our understanding of multifaceted humanity.