Burning Penis, Humping Dogs, Poetry, and Other Stuff

A student told me she had sex with a young guy she met after not having been with anyone in a long time (nothing as long as my P-F* era), and the condom slipped off at the very end. Three weeks later, the guy calls her saying his penis burns. He wondered if she had had anything. She thought he did. He went to the doctor and learned it was a urinary problem. She is going to get checked anyway next week. This reminded me of all the problems that can come from one penile encounter.

I avoided a service turn-off by paying Con Ed a chunk of money. I confuse them. They wanted me to commit to a payment plan. I hadn't signed it and I had sent them more than a payment plan payment but not the full amount owed. I sent what I could. I'm not trying to confuse them. I'm trying to survive with the comfort of gas and electricity. They wanted me to call them and tell them my intentions. I didn’t call. I have nothing to say other than when I have money, I'll send you some. It's not like I have money and am playing games. Over the weekend, I paid them another chunk. That should shut them up for a while. Now my dentist has sent me more envelopes requesting payment than I can keep up with. And the cable company is up my azz. I'm not trying to say they shouldn't get their money. They should and they will. But I'm on a hamster wheel here. The dentist has never had my life experience. A roof and food has to take priority over whatever boat purchase he might be making.

I had nothing scheduled this past weekend which was nice. No time pressures. Just a nice chunk of time to use as I wish. I'm free to think aloud. I stay up until sleep gets me. I enjoy a long hot shower and truly appreciate the consistent heat, water pressure, new ceiling, fresh paint, and not having to be concerned about anyone else needing the bathroom. A hot shower warms me in my chilly apartment. This building used to be so well heated that I'd strip when I'd get home. Now I don't want to take off my jacket. I try to embrace all the good moments. Taking out four bags of garbage makes me feel like a good husband to myself.

Speaking of which, I discovered my ex has a facebook page. What struck me was his "About" section. It tells of when he went to Spain and to France. He doesn't mention all the years growing up in and having his first unhappy marriage in Puerto Rico, then living about three decades in New York which includes the time he had his second unhappy marriage. He doesn't mention being a parent. It just struck me how he has to edit the truth out of his life, leaving tidbits as if they were the core. He lives the kind of hell one creates when they cannot be honest. He was distracted about 90% of the time. He diagnosed himself with A.D.D. though I believed he was L.M. & F.O.S.**

I’m happy to see my butt exercises are working. Have to work on the belly and arms more. I am really relieved that my body does respond to whatever efforts I put into reshaping and toning. When I saw my once-was-nice butt in the mirror some years ago, I was frightened. I hadn't realized how it was changing for the worse and how I had to work to maintain what I once had. I remember feeling when I lost control of my life that I also lost control of my body's size and shape. It was depressing. It felt easier to tackle my body than everything else at the time. I got rid of weight first. I still didn’t like that my butt wasn't up where it belongs and that my belly protruded more than my butt. It was such a physicalization of everything wrong. Things are looking better now. It’s metaphorical and literal. My life’s a poem.

After putting my dog on glucosamine, he is much more bouncy again on his walks. It warms my heart. He made a new dog friend. The other dog was young and accepted all of my dog's advances as the innocent playing it is. My neutered 12-year-old dog, after about thirty seconds of getting to know the other dog, was humping the other dog's face. A bunch of young, pants-below-the-ass men gathered and were quite impressed with my Luigi. They didn’t think that Luigi had it in him. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd get such newfound respect if I began humping someone's face on the corner. When I pulled him away from the young dog, my Luigi continued his gyrations in the air. There was positive audience reaction. My Luigi, of course, has no idea what all the fuss is about. The fuss intensifies if the other dog is male. This concerns people who should be that concerned about their own employment and education. But somehow the possibility of my dog being "gay" is of monumental importance to the local dudes. On occasion, I have entertained the troops by telling them, "My dog isn’t gay or straight. He just doesn't concern himself with all that. If he likes the dog, he wants to do humpy as part of their friendship. He doesn't care if it’s a boy or girl dog. It's a warm body." Though I was not trying to be funny, just hearing a different view had them laughing. Once when I was walking my dog, he and another dog began sniffing each other with wagging tails. The other human asked if mine was a girl. After he learned it was a male, he scolded his dog. "Whattaya sniffing? He has what you have." I said, "Oh they don't think like that. Those are human's hang-ups." A few seconds of silence, and then the man said, "It's not a hang-up!" It was time to say goodnight and move along to a nice non-judgmental tree.

My apartment needs way more attention than I've been giving it. I still have all my kitchen stuff in the middle of my living room from when they put in a new kitchen ceiling. Ugh. At one of my jobs, we are preparing for a program-wide election event. The timing makes it challenging because I'm getting acquainted with new students, and adult students are not always up for special events. Plus space has been a problem we had to creatively work around. It is taking more mental energy than I'd like. I have Law & Order marathons to watch.

Last Tuesday, 10/16/12, I was a featured poet at a reading*** in Brooklyn for the Brownstone Poets reading series. I was honored to be asked to feature by Patricia Carragon. I like the man I co-featured with. The reading went very well though it was the night of the second presidential debate which probably accounted for a modest turnout. The quality of those who came to listen felt very good. Patricia is an enthused host which keeps it alive. There is usually inherent reward in getting myself out there.

I need to get back out to the comedy stage. It's been too long. That nourishes a different part of me. Also, I've been kind of stuck in terms of writing new comedy material, so hearing others' efforts can get me in motion again. Sometimes when I hear stuff that churns my insides, I come up with material in response to what I heard. So even a comedy open mic can be helpful … if not in terms of comedy, at least in terms of motivating me to once again question my heterosexuality.

*Penis-free

**Lacking morals and full of shit

***I blog about my experiences on the NYC poetry scene at www.GetYourPoemOn.wordpress.com so please stop by.

She So Funny