Originally published on Z-End-Zine [1999] |
A Body in Motion The doors open, people push past, and you follow him on thankful that he did not hear a word you said. Your eyes are free to invade the pockets of his pants and cup his crotch as he maneuvers into an unoccupied seat. You stand against the door facing him and casually tilt your head to read the posters along the edge of the ceiling. “All you need is…” the ad claims. You dip your eyes so that you can view his sensuous lips. “…a dollar and…” You look down, his exquisite fingers rub the bridge of his nose. “…a dream.” He parts the dog-eared pages of Anna Karenina. His marble-smooth face descends into the book and he is lost to you once more. You have developed a blind hatred of Tolstoy because of his distractive and lengthy novels; they have caused you nothing but postponement and misery. You stare hopefully at Cute-Man-Who-Reads, observe the gracefully masculine architecture of his hands, like twin suspension bridges. They should be wrapped around you in slumberous post-coital embrace.
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Finish reading "A Body in Motion" in
Jim Gladstone & Sean Meriwether
Outside Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookstore
Five Favorite Albums:
The Dreaming - Kate Bush
Time Out - Dave Brubeck Quartet
Passion - Peter Gabriel
OK Computer - Radiohead
Hedwig and the Angry Inch - Steven Trask & John Cameron Mitchell
