D loved to suck cock then take it up the ass.
He would cruise the local bus station after
midnight because he knew that was the best
time to go “fishing” as he put it: for night crawlers.
The rocks turned over & there they were: thick,
juicy, slimy, squirming in darkness hiding, so as not
to get caught I slept over at D’s house one night
in the same bed he offered me a hand job
in the morning when he reached to find my
morning wood he said I can whittle away
at your man-stick for you, but I turned him
down, something I regret to this day.
I was naïve, still in high school & I have D
to thank for telling me: be sure to spit on it
or use some lotion for God’s sake!
D gave me a gold cross necklace when I left
later that morning on the way back to my
parents’ house I stopped my car, rolled down
my window & hurled the cross into a nearby creek
from the only bridge that lead to & away
from D’s place on a street whose name I can’t
recall. D got HIV, then AIDS followed a couple years
later. Even while dying, like when he lived
D always made everyone laugh. He could have been
a successful stand-up comedian anywhere,
but instead dreamed of going to Florida or Nassau
before he finally died. That was before the life-saving cocktail
they would invent. Years later it came out after his death
and on some nights when I can’t sleep & I go down to the local bus
station. It’s always a quick stop in this small town with just a few stalls.