The friendless,
Irreligious, elderly West Village Manhattan Fruit, an I. Claudius Westenhouse the t’ird,
Rose from a deadly slumber
That Chrissmas morn’,
Ripped an illicit if not
Colossally revoltin’
Machine-gun fart
Of such positively demonic intensity,
That Lenny Grabler and family’s
Little puppy Sam even began barkin’,
For the luv of Christ.
Then, I. Claudius hit the east side
Bathhouse like the
Plague had hit ‘em,
Despite his cussed
300 lbs. of lard.
Father Damien was there,
Prancin’ around nude with
His 27 year old,
10 inch Dominican dinga-ling
Bouncin’ the hell up and down
‘sif he was purposely wigglin’ up
A storm.
Padre Damien completely
Ignored I. Claudius
With the bitchiness that only
A new York city faggot
Was capable ov.
Some other Caribbean
Hispanics left the steam
Room, their cocks
Humongous as the
Italian sausages they done craved.
Those cocks were off limits
To I. Claudius And all of t’other
Fruits o’er 45 y.o.
Anyhow,
To make an
All too long story
Short,
- Claudius picked
up a nasty
case o’
bedbugs at the
east side club.
Father Damien wasn’t even
Touched by ‘em.
- Claudius had ta throw all ov his cussed
Furniture out. Even a
Minimalist extermination done by his
Landlord hymen berger did nuttin’.
‘twas a rent-control.
Anyhow,
- Claudius
Gave up the dance,
Moved down the hell
To the Jersey Shore,
& quickly became so
Utterly bereft
That he
Jumped into the north atlantic
Late one night
Just dreamin’
Of 18 year old studs galore,
Until a
Wave knocked him out
& drowned him,
Which may have been
All 4 da better,
Indeed!
The End!
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- During the late 1980’s, my poetry was published and featured in Manhattanite Harold Serban’s THE POETRY EDGE. I was also a regular reader at the Newyorican Poet’s Café but the late night hours and the ordeals of returning to the Bronx got the best of me. A short story of mine entitled TONY diPASQUALE published in NUVEIN MAGAZINE. Currently, I have several poems accepted for GAY FLASH FICTION and INCLEMENT MAGAZINE.
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GAY FLASH FICTION 