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Sex With Poets

How shy is this guy? Anyone who
admits to blowing it on social
media – what should be the limit?
Maybe even once? That can’t be

shy. I mean admits to blowing it with
out the big ask? And I am so not talking
about the people who panhandle the
internet. There’s got to be a word for

that. Besides GoFundMe. How re
pulsed I used to be when poetry gather
ings would be like Friday night at the
gay club, people checking each other

out lasciviously. I’d try, once or twice,
but lose it quick, speed like a freak to
the gay bar, were it at least a Thursday,
for sure on a weekend (save some Sun

days). Even Wednesdays, I’d hightail it
out of there as soon as, oh who am I
kidding, we were all so socially awkward.
But at least I had the good sense to know

who had the good sense to know when
someone was being gauche. At most
there’d be one, maybe two of us. Of them.
So, at the outset, I’d make note of the two

or three with actual decorum. If and how
one ever caught me slip silently out of the
auditorium at full speed before the app
lause was even finished (should there have

been any), my only concern was that they
didn’t notice. Like I could’ve possibly borne
witness to anyone leaving. It was a con
test. I was always the first to escape.