© by The Dirty Gentleman
Some mornings are languid, easy, and full. Some mornings are as rich and alive as the night before.

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Some mornings are languid, easy, and full. Some mornings are as rich and alive as the night before.

A Word

There isn’t a word

for the feel of her lips

on my neck

there isn’t a sound for the whisper

she places in my ear

 

and there is no taste

like her breast

my teeth biting harder

than before as she

 

soundlessly

wordlessly

effortlessly

 

wakes up monsters

that have long

been asleep

tdgpresents:

A delightful way to spend a fine Sunday morning, in the fine company of Ms. Millay.

tdgpresents:

Underneath, of course, were stockings held up by garters, but often what’s just out of sight is as enticing as what’s present, visible, in front of our longing eyes.

tdgpresents:

Underneath, of course, were stockings held up by garters, but often what’s just out of sight is as enticing as what’s present, visible, in front of our longing eyes.

Sunshine and Shadow

“I want to fuck you in the sunshine,” I whispered, pulling her closer to me. She was standing in front of me, my arms around her waist, in a dress that was so short even the squirrels were looking. She arched her neck and nibbled my ear, her voice teasing and firm.

“What’s stopping you?”

“People, the police, children, insecurity, whatever you have on under this dress. All the normal things,” I said, my hands on her thighs and moving up. The park was crowded, the sun was hot, and there was nowhere to hide. There was nowhere to slip off to and nowhere duck into.

“So, does this help?” she asked, easily wiggling her panties down beneath her dress and stuffing them into her purse. “I mean, that’s one of five. What were the other reasons?”

“I’m not sure I remember,” I whispered, my hand between her legs, feeling her warm and wet from more than just the sun. “And maybe that’s best. Would you stop me? Can I just fuck you right here on the grass, right here in the park, right here in front of the world?”

“You mean in the sunshine?” she asked, turning and facing me, her hand pressed firmly against my hardness. “Can you fuck me here without being afraid? Here without hiding? Here without caring about anything but how much you love and want me?”

“Yes,” I said, struggling to kiss her. Struggling to let the world go, and struggling to not care.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, stepping away. “There are children and cops, and people and stuff. And besides, who has the nerve? I don’t believe you. Trying to fuck me in the park.”

I watched her laugh as she ran off into the brambles, her short dress hiding nothing. I counted to three before following, and there was no turning back.

“Someone is in trouble,” I said, when I finally caught up with her. I was vaguely trying to hide my excitement as I chased her down the path, but it was the least of my worries.

“I certainly hope so,” she said, kissing me once more as we fell to the ground in the shadows.

© by The Dirty Gentleman
Summer always seems like a fuzzy mess of dreams, each one overlapping each other in a blur of heat and exhaustion. Maybe it’s the haze or the maybe it’s the need to slow down, but I constantly long for moments of empty thought and slippery limbs. 
Dreams come in all shapes and forms, and when I stop trying to think or do too much of anything, they come all at once.
I close my eyes just enough and take a deep breath of warm air. Sometimes I have to let go of seeing in order to see.

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Summer always seems like a fuzzy mess of dreams, each one overlapping each other in a blur of heat and exhaustion. Maybe it’s the haze or the maybe it’s the need to slow down, but I constantly long for moments of empty thought and slippery limbs. 

Dreams come in all shapes and forms, and when I stop trying to think or do too much of anything, they come all at once.

I close my eyes just enough and take a deep breath of warm air. Sometimes I have to let go of seeing in order to see.

He

he does not know
how his lack of effort
moves me to tears
when I am alone

he does not know
how his forgiveness
requires nothing

he does not know
that his kindness
is stronger than words
and his hope is
more beautiful
than the sun setting
over the ocean

disgustingnovel:

The next night Jason and Brent returned. Crazy, beautiful, brilliant Brent and funny, awkward, nervous Jason came back. For the first time in over a year, I went out with the boys. It sounds like the start to a bad movie about fraternities, but the truth is that while I mostly had female friends,…




© by The Dirty Gentleman

Happy 4th of July you lovely queers, punks, drunks, lovers, fuckers, liars, thieves, unicorns, mermaids, painters, poets, and pirates. 

I love you all.

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Happy 4th of July you lovely queers, punks, drunks, lovers, fuckers, liars, thieves, unicorns, mermaids, painters, poets, and pirates. 

I love you all.

disgustingnovel:

I didn’t talk to Jane for three days. I picked up the phone at least six times, but I never dialed her number. I asked my roommates constantly if anyone had called, but even then I was careful. As carefree as Kelly appeared to be, I didn’t want to test that by asking about Jane in front of her….

There’s a book at Lillie’s. In a drawer. Here’s a hint. #dbi

There’s a book at Lillie’s. In a drawer. Here’s a hint. #dbi

Tags: dbi

People have been asking where they can get Dirty Boys swag recently, so I figured I’d post this again. I get more comments on this shirt, sometimes from people who have heard the podcast or come to a show, but whatever they say it’s always nice.
A friend got recognized in hers out in San Francisco last week, which was totally insane. I guess there are Dirty Boys everywhere.
Anyway, here’s the link to the store with shirts and flasks and shit.

-gny

People have been asking where they can get Dirty Boys swag recently, so I figured I’d post this again. I get more comments on this shirt, sometimes from people who have heard the podcast or come to a show, but whatever they say it’s always nice.

A friend got recognized in hers out in San Francisco last week, which was totally insane. I guess there are Dirty Boys everywhere.

Anyway, here’s the link to the store with shirts and flasks and shit.

-gny

Loving You

I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that, and I’m honestly not looking for sympathy, but it’s the truth. I didn’t set out to write an autobiography, and I hope that’s not what this is becoming. I haven’t lived long enough or deep enough to make that worthwhile, but I suppose most of us haven’t.

What type of ego is it that makes us believe we’ve seen a grain of truth that others might have missed? That we personally have some insight that is worth sharing with the world? I suppose any time an author picks up a pen he’s channeling some of that, and maybe it’s not ego after all. In fact, we’ve all been told over and over again that it might be our job to shine. It might be our obligation to shout every revelation we have out to the stars and see what comes back to us.

For a long time I was something of an individualist. Not in the Randian sense of the word, but I read the existentialists and I was obsessed with human potential. What could I do, all by myself? It was each of us against the world, struggling to be a voice in a vast and lonely darkness.

Somewhere in time, however I read other things. I sat in meditation, and I began to wonder if in the middle of that ego driven world was a myth that was had to overcome. What if each of us was not in fact separate? What if I returned to at least the basics of my early liberal theology and remembered that if god is anything, she is love? I devoured Tich Nan Han, Annie Dillard, and Alan Watts, and it all became clearer and less clear at once. We do not come into the world, Watts says. We come out of it. We are not people in an expansive universe, we are the universe, exploring itself through touch, taste and sound by being human. Just as my chair and my desk are made up of atoms, the only thing separating them being space and time, so am I a part of everything. You and I are simply separate tendrils of existence, all connected to one beautifully complex thing whose only desire is to see more. To learn more. To be more.

And maybe that’s why we like stories. My story is in fact all of our stories. Of course our lives our different, our experiences too, but it takes the totality of human existence to tell it correctly. It’s not a very practical philosophy, but I’ve never been the most practical man in the world. Realizing that you and I are the same doesn’t make it easier when we fight and it doesn’t make the stranger on the train platform any more terrifying on a dark night. But there are occasions when it makes all the difference; when I can pause just long enough to realize I am fighting with myself. I am afraid of myself. I, that is to say all of creation, am constantly looking inward and pretending it’s something other.

So if I ask myself again, what am I doing here writing these words down, maybe the answer is simpler than I expected. Maybe if I wonder about connection and struggle, if I question my ability to communicate and thus escape my loneliness, it’s much clearer. I’m writing this for the same reason I wrote letters in college. I’m writing for the same reason I got drunk and walked the street naked with old friends, and the same reason I kissed a girl in the rain and mud.

I do love you, you see. We are separate parts of the whole, cut off by our thoughts and our experience as a sensing creature, but we are one. And for all of my life I have been desperately trying to feel the truth of that in my bones and my blood. I’ve been struggling to look through the myth of our being separate, and experience instead the reality of our connection.

But of course, loving you maybe easier than loving myself…

GNY

(note: this is from a longer piece I’ve been working on for a while. It’s not my typical QNY fodder, but I wanted to share it anyway. Hope you don’t mind.)

disgustingnovel:

I’ve been getting some lovely photos of people reading DBI recently. Thank you all so much for sharing!