Flanked by the boys, he enters the Basilica with all the dignity and circumstance due his station. The irony is not lost on the boys as they stride alongside the Most Reverend into the church.
His ascent has been rapid within the church. Favored for his impressive intellect and public powers of persuasion, the boys wonder if his secrets are known and ignored or true secrets kept even from the highest orders.
The boys ascended with his holiness and enjoyed the privileges of his new station-the larger house, the servants, the general honor and respect.
The boys, long ago abandoned, had been adopted by the most reverend as teens and were considered part of his household. They lived in his house. Attended his school and slept in his bed.
The sex has come after the boys had moved in and not at his most reverends initiation.
The older of the boys, Alex, made a habit of sneaking into his most reverend's bed in the middle of the night. One night he persuaded the most reverend to taste the pleasures of the flesh. The most reverend discovered an almost insatiable appetite that the boys, Alex at first, and later his younger brother Tom, did their best to satisfy.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Rain at Last!
This morning at Cafe Trieste more than a few regulars were caught by surprise by the early showers leading to a cancelled tennis game and a hunt for a Chronicle. Cafe Trieste in particular and North Beach in general may be one the last places where more people read the paper on paper than any other format. I hope that never changes. Makes me and my notebooks feel even more at home even if there is WiFi and the odd laptop and iPad in use.
In my work (the activity for which I am paid the money that supports my life which includes lots of work for which I am richly rewarded but not paid) people in that rightly maligned tech space refer to people favorably as serial entrepreneurs. I want to ask if it's a cornflakes, frosted flakes, kind of story or a branflakes, raisin bran kind of story or some kind of GMO Couscous or quinoa involving a fish gene kind of story. But I don't. They already think I'm crazy, just not scary crazy. (Well maybe some think I am scary crazy...).
So for all of that a little of today's notebook...
Serials-Cereals
Grains of sand
Like flowers under glass.
Grains of wholeness
Separated kernels from husk.
Entrepreneurs all.
Inventors and tormentors,
Us all,
Prepare for the Fall.
In my work (the activity for which I am paid the money that supports my life which includes lots of work for which I am richly rewarded but not paid) people in that rightly maligned tech space refer to people favorably as serial entrepreneurs. I want to ask if it's a cornflakes, frosted flakes, kind of story or a branflakes, raisin bran kind of story or some kind of GMO Couscous or quinoa involving a fish gene kind of story. But I don't. They already think I'm crazy, just not scary crazy. (Well maybe some think I am scary crazy...).
So for all of that a little of today's notebook...
Serials-Cereals
Grains of sand
Like flowers under glass.
Grains of wholeness
Separated kernels from husk.
Entrepreneurs all.
Inventors and tormentors,
Us all,
Prepare for the Fall.
Monday, November 18, 2013
The Posting Problem...
Where to put what and what is publication? The 21st century dilemma?
Here I will again share bits and pieces from my notebooks that are part or no part of larger projects in the hope of some readership and engagement. As best as I can I will tag/label these so those that belong to my many in progress projects will easily collect for those interested in them.
Look for soon a new BentBoyBook presenting the first installment of Vassar Boy (just need to get past the usual technical difficulties...) and then more from that project on its way to becoming little books.
For those interested in participating in the BentBoyBooks project please reach our here or any of the other contact me channels.
PS. If I get mobile motivated expect a few random iPhone city shots to appear randomly in this space.
Here I will again share bits and pieces from my notebooks that are part or no part of larger projects in the hope of some readership and engagement. As best as I can I will tag/label these so those that belong to my many in progress projects will easily collect for those interested in them.
Look for soon a new BentBoyBook presenting the first installment of Vassar Boy (just need to get past the usual technical difficulties...) and then more from that project on its way to becoming little books.
For those interested in participating in the BentBoyBooks project please reach our here or any of the other contact me channels.
PS. If I get mobile motivated expect a few random iPhone city shots to appear randomly in this space.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
What to Write
In Vassar boy I avoid telling Ford's story to tell tales of Drew as though Drew were a subjet worthy of the telling. I steal time from the banks of the river Styx and it's not something I can fix. A small memento mori will do nicely.
Poetry and Porn pretent to rend the universe apart and stitch it back together again but in the end they rend what they preteen and up end whatever messes they intend. A porn a copia of pretense is all the sens you'll need to breed a bountiful future full of fantastic pleasure.
The missing ART.
The missing of the ART Show.
The showing of the missing ART.
Participation is limited to the invited participants. All others will not be included among the invited.
My habits are a mess. My messes are habitual. It is almost enough to know it.
His trim form. His full to overflowing cock. His everything a pleasure. My own private treasure. Stalking the tomorrow of yesterday. It's all I can say. All I dare do.
Poetry and Porn pretent to rend the universe apart and stitch it back together again but in the end they rend what they preteen and up end whatever messes they intend. A porn a copia of pretense is all the sens you'll need to breed a bountiful future full of fantastic pleasure.
The missing ART.
The missing of the ART Show.
The showing of the missing ART.
Participation is limited to the invited participants. All others will not be included among the invited.
My habits are a mess. My messes are habitual. It is almost enough to know it.
His trim form. His full to overflowing cock. His everything a pleasure. My own private treasure. Stalking the tomorrow of yesterday. It's all I can say. All I dare do.
The Pocket Poetry Project: Poem One
Humors restored.
Balance returns. An ironic twist.
A well lubricated fist.
His cock appeared to instant accolades.
A happy hipster land of day.
A Dolores delight in parking the car far a field. A meadow memory of meaning.
A forgetting of forgiveness.
Is it enough to answer the prayer?
A pocket full of poesies.
A Parker full of pens.
Needles enough.
Tough stuff
Balance returns. An ironic twist.
A well lubricated fist.
His cock appeared to instant accolades.
A happy hipster land of day.
A Dolores delight in parking the car far a field. A meadow memory of meaning.
A forgetting of forgiveness.
Is it enough to answer the prayer?
A pocket full of poesies.
A Parker full of pens.
Needles enough.
Tough stuff
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Of Squats and Poetry Readings in the Dark
I took a chance on a reading suggested by Char (or rather she FB invited me and did not herself attend - a trend I am seeing more and more with the Going click the new Like button - an ever so light promise to participate). I didn't know the readers or the press YESYES but I had heard about the space and past reading from Dodie and thought if nothing else it would be an experience.
I'd read the deal in an article about the space and had an idea of what to expect. Go to 849 and then get led to the abandoned squat at 851 to hear poetry read by candle light. The event said 8pm for a start and given the secret entry and elaborate orchestration involved I thought better to be on time and wait than encounter a locked door with all the others inside.
Of course 8 0'clock was poetry time and then some. I think we were finally led down the hall and up the stairs somewhere between 9:30 and 9:45pm. Fortunately I arrived at the outside gate with a couple of folks halfway in and made a delightful and fast connection with Claire Huie with whom I passed the time before the reading enjoying the feeling of being at a house party where everyone was lovely. I just hadn't met them all yet.
The reading (5 folks for 10ish minutes each) turned out to a be a lovely mix all of it delivered with generosity and honesty that allowed me to appreciate even the work that was not always to my taste.
While I did not witness any of the promised gropings or hook ups there was one marriage proposal and more than a few new friends frisky or not made.
I will add more and load some darkish photos once I get my devices better coordinated.
I'd read the deal in an article about the space and had an idea of what to expect. Go to 849 and then get led to the abandoned squat at 851 to hear poetry read by candle light. The event said 8pm for a start and given the secret entry and elaborate orchestration involved I thought better to be on time and wait than encounter a locked door with all the others inside.
Of course 8 0'clock was poetry time and then some. I think we were finally led down the hall and up the stairs somewhere between 9:30 and 9:45pm. Fortunately I arrived at the outside gate with a couple of folks halfway in and made a delightful and fast connection with Claire Huie with whom I passed the time before the reading enjoying the feeling of being at a house party where everyone was lovely. I just hadn't met them all yet.
The reading (5 folks for 10ish minutes each) turned out to a be a lovely mix all of it delivered with generosity and honesty that allowed me to appreciate even the work that was not always to my taste.
While I did not witness any of the promised gropings or hook ups there was one marriage proposal and more than a few new friends frisky or not made.
I will add more and load some darkish photos once I get my devices better coordinated.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
A Blowsy Afternoon in North Beach
A surprise call on the way out to Yoga, a quick change of plans. Off to meet Miss Blowdryer early at Trieste.
A street side ID across Columbus and a gentle stroll around the hood. Up and around past familiar icons of this mythic hood and some new made here hipster happy joints. A browse of old concert poster/adverts in cardboard like might have graced a telephone pole. Cher and Madonna from the 1990s. Cher in Hartford, Madonna up and down the coast including Providence and Hartford. The Rolling Stones at Toads in 1989. And even some oldies. All intriguing and as impossible as the mod freestanding turntable. A look at Cavallini and Sons only to discover books given over to bagels and only a few sad magazines left to read. Back down Columbus to Trieste for warming delights (a mocha and a double expresso) and after much inquiry a peanut butter cookie. A seat behind the phone booth ATM and an exchange of books and stories and good conversation.
And then the Beat Museum, expected to be a kitch tourist tease worth only a snap or two for Miss Blowdryer's buddy, it turned into a delight of literary artifacts and engaging conversation. Exceeding expectations all around the reading at City Lights was even interesting perched on the stairs struggling to see.
A street side ID across Columbus and a gentle stroll around the hood. Up and around past familiar icons of this mythic hood and some new made here hipster happy joints. A browse of old concert poster/adverts in cardboard like might have graced a telephone pole. Cher and Madonna from the 1990s. Cher in Hartford, Madonna up and down the coast including Providence and Hartford. The Rolling Stones at Toads in 1989. And even some oldies. All intriguing and as impossible as the mod freestanding turntable. A look at Cavallini and Sons only to discover books given over to bagels and only a few sad magazines left to read. Back down Columbus to Trieste for warming delights (a mocha and a double expresso) and after much inquiry a peanut butter cookie. A seat behind the phone booth ATM and an exchange of books and stories and good conversation.
And then the Beat Museum, expected to be a kitch tourist tease worth only a snap or two for Miss Blowdryer's buddy, it turned into a delight of literary artifacts and engaging conversation. Exceeding expectations all around the reading at City Lights was even interesting perched on the stairs struggling to see.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Trieste Harder
Reading Stephen Boyer's Parasite at Trieste enjoying my first coffee of the day. Great night last night at SF Jazz Center watching and listening to the incredible Mariza.
Wanting to hide from the job and just spend the day here. Already missing Ralph leaving for the East later today. Not excited for the rain coming tomorrow and maybe Wednesday. Stilly trying to make this a regular habit.
And super excited for the reading on Wednesday. Books are made and ready. Hope to see you there.
http://bentboybooks.com/news-events
Wanting to hide from the job and just spend the day here. Already missing Ralph leaving for the East later today. Not excited for the rain coming tomorrow and maybe Wednesday. Stilly trying to make this a regular habit.
And super excited for the reading on Wednesday. Books are made and ready. Hope to see you there.
http://bentboybooks.com/news-events
Friday, March 15, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Writing and Publishing Projects
Building the latest BentBoyBook a chapter from Ronald Palmer's Prick Queasy. First ones will finish and go out this weekend with the release party next week featuring Jennifer Blowdryer and Ted Rees at the ever lovely Alley Cat Books thanks to the truly awesome Alvin Orloff.
Next book will be a Chapter from my book length project Vassar Boy which began more than a decade ago at SF State. This Chapter is called Daisy Chain which has a very specific meaning at Vassar College quite different from the sexual ones that also apply in some other chapters from this project. My intent is to publish the complete project in installments over the next two years between other BentBoyBooks publications. As is typical of New Narrative writing and much of my work, the project features a character named Drew who is and is not the author and an array of other community based characters whose names have been adjusted to protect the living and the dead.
Next book will be a Chapter from my book length project Vassar Boy which began more than a decade ago at SF State. This Chapter is called Daisy Chain which has a very specific meaning at Vassar College quite different from the sexual ones that also apply in some other chapters from this project. My intent is to publish the complete project in installments over the next two years between other BentBoyBooks publications. As is typical of New Narrative writing and much of my work, the project features a character named Drew who is and is not the author and an array of other community based characters whose names have been adjusted to protect the living and the dead.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Cafe Trieste
Back in SF. Reading Elements of a Coffee Service as a lead up to its re-release. Lovely to revisit like an old friend. This is in many ways the book that brought me to San Francisco.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, March 08, 2013
Paris, Birthdays, Spring and Snow
Not really New Years (Chinese or America) and not quite Spring (another half a foot or more of fresh snow here in Norfolk), somehow it feels like a new beginning.
Having finished a huge project for my employer that lasted a year and a half (most of which was crazy busy and highly stressful), just come back from our Paris trip to hear Patricia Kaas Chante Piaf at Olympia, and just had a birthday (no particular milestone), and just now publishing Ronald Palmer's Prick Queasy (party at Alley Cat on March 20th with Jennifer Blowdryer and Ted Rees), I find myself in a place of new found calm and focus. Being present in the way they mean in Yoga class.
For my New Year (starting now), I am going to stay present and be present in the creative community that gives me so much. In this space I am going to share work and I hope engage in conversations about shared aesthetics and values. Look for more posts much more frequently.
Having finished a huge project for my employer that lasted a year and a half (most of which was crazy busy and highly stressful), just come back from our Paris trip to hear Patricia Kaas Chante Piaf at Olympia, and just had a birthday (no particular milestone), and just now publishing Ronald Palmer's Prick Queasy (party at Alley Cat on March 20th with Jennifer Blowdryer and Ted Rees), I find myself in a place of new found calm and focus. Being present in the way they mean in Yoga class.
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