I’ve spent a lot of the past week or so thinking about gender-fuckery and how to look as queer as possible. Yesterday, I celebrated Fishnet Friday and wore a new t-shirt – pursuing a queer-punk look. Apparently my word choice revealed that I’m a Dildorks podcast listener in this being-teased-in-public story, and I am borrowing their gender-neutral word again for this poem.
Category: Filthy poetry
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Queer punk bean
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Hurt should come from consensual spanking, not my silly words
This isn’t the filthy story of pirate sex, and even though it’s tagged as filthy poetry I’m not sure its very sexy. I wanted to write some delightfully hot words, but there were others I wanted to say first. These words are I’m sorry and you’re brilliant and I’d like to kiss you, and never one to be concise, I wrote a poem to say them.
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Ode to sexting
I’ve started this blog post again and again, but kept getting distracted by buying butt plugs or watching porn or talking to sexy people about equally sexy things. I enjoy flirting, and I feel like there’s been a lot of it today, so tonight I’m sharing a silly, fun, filthy poem about sexting.
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Feeling alive: an Eroticon poem
This was written for World Poetry Day. Until recently, I’d forgotten how much I simultaneously love writing poetry and firmly believe that I have absolutely zero skill when it comes to doing so. I’ve tried to capture another part of amazing happiness of my weekend at Eroticon, specifically feeling alive and free when dancing on the Saturday night.