Lamont Palmer

(July 12th,1962 / Maryland)

Blowjob By The Tracks


Seat back into the pleasure position: ransacked
it seems to be, though taken on willingly,
Westminster sun, strident in afternoon,
takes him miles from the home of straight insights.
A train passes. Its squeal matches a squeal,
its motion clashes with hidden motion;
flourishing metal, like it is in the mouth.
Yet methodone tales do not dull the knifepoint
of need; they go unnoticed and unfelt.
There is only one drug. They share the mainline.
He sees the caboose: feels residual sensation;
the tracks are shaking with his sense of speed,
attempting to ruin the idea of hiding.
He thinks: 'no one can hide, no one ever can',
it is futile, like getting excused for obsessions.
One wonders if the conductor knows what's
being conducted, near piqued shrubbery?
No smoke but the smoke of dalliance;
sounds of the trains of inner rushing,
pistons, now, pummeling a belated passion,
(pleasure will be held against degradation, later)
like dormant heat, itself, rising on the eye.

Submitted: Friday, January 21, 2011
Edited: Sunday, March 27, 2011

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  • Bri Edwards (11/14/2013 5:03:00 PM)

    piqued shrubbery? stimulated bush? i suppose i could have figured out the subject without the title. are you gay? no problem for me if you are, and hopefully not for you as well. i guess it would be odd if someone asked me if i am heterosexual (or gay) but i would rise to the occasion. odd in the sense that it would be unusual...very. but i have been called weird enough times so odd doesn't mean much to me. if gay subject matter, or straight subject matter, or humor/humour interests you, you may be interested in some of my poems. thanks for sharing. ;) (Report) Reply

  • Gary Witt (1/31/2011 8:47:00 PM)

    Lamont: Edgy and enviable, with some stand-out lines and a unique attitude. I get the feeling this might have been an experiment of sorts. If so, it works. Extremely well-done.

    Thanks for sharing this one.

    -G (Report) Reply

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