I like the wet, the sweaty, the ones dank
and moist after a workout. You come home
from the gym; it’s 9 and I’m drunk. I yank
your shorts down; spread you wide. With tongue I roam
around your core. “No, it’s dirty,” you bleat —
pressed against the wall, fingers scratching paint.
I’m not a scholar; you’re not an athlete;
but we make do. “Auntie Peg” — holy saint
of the fifth base, fecking and gaped starfish —
“Let me clean the kitchen.” Neither of us
are strong but I fill you with a fat slish
until all else becomes superfluous.
You are ill and I’m a freakin’ drunk —
you and I are bareback: post-rage, post-punk.
If you’re trying to write gender-neutral erotica anal sex makes a logical path, especially in a world that does not reward gender-neutral, but we make do. Auntie Peg is both a reference to Juliet Anderson, who passed away in 2010 and also to the act of using a strap-on on a male partner.