Echoes: Verse 12, Carlos Segura

Assoto Saint's anthology The Road Before Us is a must read. It is full of wonderful pieces that are like snapshots into the gay man's psyche. Love, hate, hopes, and death all framed in a finger-snap. I wanted to continue the relaunch campaign of this blog with a piece by Carlos Segura that really resonated with me. The only line change I would make is about white men. None have submitted applications for long term residency in the past, despite me being open to the possibility. (Just saying.)

I have just been thinking a lot about what I want in a partner and Carlos' words come pretty damn close. 

Classifieds
by Carlos Segura

wanted
a man
to hold me
during thunderstorms
so i won't shiver anymore
fuck
through blizzards
so i could keep warm

white men need not apply

knowledge of snap-finger theories
girlfriend language
or cha-cha queenologies
need not apply

philosophies of
bebopism
dick holdism
or home boy talkism
not required

occupation a must
kissing a must

he needs to know
and be comfortable
with him

wanted
a man
who will sit between my legs
describe his dreams
lay besides me
tell me he's afraid
cry

it'd be fun if he were ticklish

one
who will come home
to our apartment
throw his bag
his coat
across the room
and me
on our overstuffed sofa

forget about
nine to five
white people
black people
miss things
got mugged
raped
evicted
fired
bashed
pop finger
bullshit
every day
and kiss me down

one who will want
me
love
me

applications being considered

Carlos Segura was born in the Dominican Republic and raised in New York City. His work has appeared in The Pyramid Periodical. At the time this poem was published, Carlos worked as a health educator for the Minority Task Force on AIDS in New York City.

Pen and Paper: Untitled

It has been some time since last I wrote anything on this blog.  Life got busy, but is starting to settle back down, so time to whip out my pen and paper.  I thought I would get things back on track with a short unfinished piece of mine that I recently found in the pages of an old black book.  Enjoy.

 Untitled

I have not traversed these grounds
             in a long time
For it was here
       amongst the back-trails and enclaves
That he knelled and
             opened his mouth to betrayal
Allowing its seeds
       to settle on the earth
   and take root