Jonathan Van De Loo

Sometimes I forget that men can kiss each other.

It’s easy to remember the dick sucking
The bareback
The tight young twink
The silver fox
Muscled
Leather chiseled
Step-dad
Grandpa
Dominant
Conqueror
Ass devourer
Fist ready
Rosebud
Cum bucket
Tramp-stamped
Bubble butt
Gogoboy
Rodeo sex hooker hoe
Addict

Runaways; Who really are lovely, honest to God (if she does exist (where she at tho, (fr fr)))

Too often, though
Are they the butt
(sorry, had to)
Of the joke…

From them we have taken the simple kiss,
An action often documented by rom-coms,
Commonly defined as a meeting of lips which belong to two different persons.

These [See title, “SEX-CRAZED HOOKER HOES”]
Are a people that hold hands and water the plants
Before the chaps go on and the toys come out.

They shop for groceries, forget to send thank you cards,
Oversleep, eat too much before bed
And in bed,

Forget which way to turn at the light, lose keys,
Crack phone screens, let their hair grow out a little too long,
Grow poorly shaped mustaches just to feel something,

And step on legos. They want lunch-time picnic companions
With a similar sense of humor and good taste in movies.
(The sense of humor may be negotiable  ((But the good taste in movies is not.))

They want someone or some people who can set up twinkly lights
During holidays or just for fun
Whenever the fancy strikes.

An infectious laugh wouldn’t hurt,
Or if it did
It would hurt so good that the jokes would never end.

Maybe someone will be confused by all this mumbo jumbo,
So confused they will go to google and type in
All the words they misunderstood, in an attempt to piece together what it all “means”.

While their brow furrows,
The WiFi not yet connected,
I will sit somewhere in a park and imagine a walk I am taking

With a handsome man (or two (or three (or four)))
As we hold hands and walk to bikes
Locked onto a tree stump by a pond.

We might laugh, we might slap each others’ asses,
Bite lips as we kiss, caress hair, and mock one another
When we trip over nothing

        (One bruise collected on a knee cap (or two (or three (or four)))).
There’s a helluva lot we may do.
I can’t wait for it all to happen.

Jonathan Van De Loo hails from Albany, New York. He is a lover of breakfast food, puppies, and Rihanna.