dominicvine

the allure of potential energy

here in rural Virginia

i just read a memoir about growing up gay in Virginia
called “How i Learned to Snap” by Kirk Read
i know a guy who lives about 40 miles away from here in a town called “Gaylax”

i’m staying at the house of a girl who once photographed me
5 years ago
i later went to her gallery in NYC
i didn’t know she was famous
i bought a few of her books

now i’m staying with her mother

a friend of a friend

a small town
with a familiar name: Floyd
like a buddy
someone casual, like

like a man who changes his name who drives you crazy

a small town, Floyd
different than ZIonsville

has a health-food store
that’s open any time you want to stop in
the door isn’t locked
and whatever you take
you write down on a receipt pad
and pay
put the money in an envelope and drop it

familiar, like
casual
like a buddy

this town
lots of hippies
in the hills of Virginia

we drove into town today for lunch
i bought some fudge brownies to take The Mountain
ate a barbee-q sandwich made of Buffalo
had some tea

then we went to a fabric store
i bought supplies for sewing projects i’ve been intending for months
— where would i get these in NYC?
and some embrodery floss to make “friendship bracelets” that my sister
and i used to make
in line to pay
i saw a picture of a man i thought was hot:
bearish fellow in round glasses and american flag white sweatshirt
inside a white van
handing out rolls of fabric

Toni, the mother, went behind the shop to an annex
i followed her back there after my purchases
and there was the man i saw from the picture
he and she were talking
his name was Jerry
and he spoke very slowly

he told us that when someone once called from NYC
they couldn’t understand a thing he said (well, he had a southern
accent as well)
i suspected it was because of how slow he spoke
many people in NYC find that intolerable.

his hand felt nice when i shook it
and i wished…

but i wish so many things
my wishes have gotten paler as i’ve gotten older.

i don’t know what Toni was buying
Chris and Agnes were looking at the foam rubber for something for
Chris to sleep on
i found a large bin of discount leather scraps
one in turquoise 6 feet long and two feet wide

how much?
Jerry said he’d knock a bit off and give it to me for $15
i wore it around like a shawl
and conversations about Yurts led to me talking about my Mongolian trip

then i ran to the back of the store and threw myself onto a pile of foam rubber
Agnes explaining she’d not yet had her second childhood
and this is why she isn’t good with children

i threw myself on the pads a few more times
bringing even greater joy to myself

did you know mercury retrograde started already?

yes yes yes

when Chris was ready asked him to call it and flipped a coin:
Heads

so i told Jerry i would buy it
he asked me how much he’d told me it would be
i said $15
he said he’d give to me for ten
$10 it is!

i made sure i shook his hand again
wishing…

but i wish a lot

out the door
i turned to chris and said
“That is the kind of man i find completely adorable”
and Chris said
“well he’s definately gay”

the rest of the day
we made jokes about Jerry
a 4 way
Chris would kiss him
Agnes would lick his ass
i was inspecific
but i wanted everything

Toni said he was a good christian
unmarried
near his 50’s
he did say “god bless” as we left
i overlooked it

i talked about jonhathan and david
Toni knew, but the other boys didn’t

we got home
made cornbread
got stoned
and soaked in the hot tub

it was raining
like a scotch mist

i jumped out of the tub
after horror storries of Sustiva
i walked to the back of the yard
and walked into the little stream there

so beautiful
the heavy grey sky
the rain falling
my hot body

i wondered how many times the daughter had shot photos back here…
her genre is people naked out in nature
here i am
naked
no one to photograph me

i want to climb around on those logs back there…
i only took the slightest big of smoke from that pipe
just a tiny bit
was that enough?

i looked out into the horizon
i put myself into the water
in pushup position
lowered myself down
put my head under

i ran back to the house
opened the hot tub again
and jumped in

chris came out
and i asked him if he’d photograph me

we got warm again
and ran back to the river

took a few shots of eachother

it was dark…

then back to the house
the corn bread was done
we got dressed
and headed out to this party
potluck of some sort
i seemed to be entirely ignorant of what we were doing and where we were going

it turned out to be a bunch of old Hippies

Toni is 69
how old were these people?

a guy named Lester had made a Mandola
something like a mandolin
he made this himself
strange shape: notces for his thighs and arms

odd
we sang all sorts of old hippy songs
and songs about whores
and how god will always fuck you up

i sang them “Subterranean Homesick Alien”
and they liked it

the night wore on
everything smells of wet dog
we drank wine
and had enough

drove by the store
got some icecream

at the party there was about 10 women
and two men
the other one was called Pat
this is Toni’s BoyFriend

we’d been making jokes about Jerry all day
and at the shop
Toni whispered in my ear
“i think pat is cuter”
coz i had told her i was going to steal him away from her

and the conversation continued in my head
as we got home
Looked through Justine’s photographs
ate icescream and cheddar bunnies
talked about the year of the cat
bid eachother good night

as i fiddled with the computer
a simple thing
in mercury retrograde
turned into well over an hour
of me copying files
and downloading files
from my computer to hers so she could watch the rare Johnny Depp movie
“Arizona Dream”

the conversation continued to me saying (to myself)
“of course Pat is cuter: He’s more Alive. Alive is Hot”
coz you know..
Jerry isn’t Gay
he’s Christian
and he’s not married
and has he EVER had sex?

(here’s where i was going with this)

i always say that i’m always attracted to men with Experience, not Potential

think of a beautiful 18 year old boy
who the fuck cares what he’s done
football star, straight A student
no one wants to fuck him for that
they want to fuck him for all the life he has yet to live
how fresh he is
he could be famous
he could be a father of 7
he could be a rich banker
or the president of the United States

or you could leach off some of that potential energy
and … write another book
or something

anyway, that’s not my interest
i love to fuck men coz

they’ve survived Auschwitz
or written 30 novels
or worked with Madonna in the Dunken Donuts before she was famous
— have stories to tell
actually did things

that is
beyond the superficial fat furry belly beard thing.
i want them for their life stories
not their dreams

i like a man with dreams
but dreams annoy me
because most people just spout them and don’t do anything about them
i only like people sharing their dreams with me
if they say
“let’s go try it”
or, like kelly
“those shoes are three-hundred-fucking-dollars: Let’s Get ‘Em”

people telling me dreams they’ll never live is one of the most
depressing things i experience in life
sometimes it’s so depressing i have to go out and live them myself.

anyway
this guy, Jerry
he was all full of potential energy
coz i don’t know if he ever did anything or not
but this Pat guy
he had experience all over him
a hobble to his walk
a mouth full of about 7 teeth
HOT, right
but Jerry
his soft voice
full hands
job at the fabric store

what adventures could he share with me?
in story or deed…

i’ve had so many dreams, wishes
but these sort of dreams are pale to me because the aren’t worth it
they fade quickly
like the smoke from the pipe
or the weather
as it passes through the valleys

i don’t need men who dream about something some day
and never do it

me: i’m working on it
whatever it is
whatever comes to mind
whatever comes to heart

still…
i must acknoledge the men of the past i always loved
the broken men of dreams
who wanted to do so much
and just never will
never did…

i want shoes to go walking in
not sit on the shelf
i like fancy pants
but what use are they if they aren’t comfortable
and filled with pockets i can carry things in?

tired lazy loves aren’t practical

let’s get some shoes.

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