pervert

what is it about me that attracts them?
is it my innocence,
my denied purity,
or my clean face,
my aversion to vulgarity?
i'm not
ill-disposed to things that are
>>vulgar
just so you know.
but my input is unrequired. rejected. like I can't reject you.

the same face
they all have the same face of absent excitement.
salivating
drooling
dogs.
they stare between the lines.
they smile
the same smile of passive titillation.
of an offer of a free beer,
slurping 'woof'
into the one they currently have
and wiping saliva
off the face, with a damp mothy sleeve.

i watch them as they try to dance
try to dance with me
try to dance
dance with me
they reject me
they want me to dance for them
dance with them
without them.
it's not about me.
it's never about me
yet why does it seem it always happens to

little me.
startled, perpetually startled,
my fate is to be taken by surprise
and innocently
not
say 'no'.
they lie, when they say you should speak up
speak out
speak.
say anything other than smile or nod.
there is no space for you
in there.
there's only space for
dick.

only space for a gigantic excitable puppy of a penis
and your prim and properness,
in your dark red chipped nail varnish, against the flesh
trying not to squeeze too hard
because you don't want to feel anything
and he doesn't know you are alive
and he would like you to smile and go with it.

and he would like you to do as you're told
and he would like it if you bit your hand and said 'ouch'
and he would like it.
do you like it?
of course you do.
you have no say.
you are not there.

everywhere i walk today i see ugliness
ugly bulging
ugly bulging smiles
absent bulging
male male
suited, booted, aftershaven
distant, absent, gentleman.

everywhere i walk today
i'm struck by the ugliness.
the suspect moles on the neck
of the alcoholic man on the tube.
the awkward jerking of the
man on the train.
ugly.

the women i see are beautiful. it is men, today, that hurt me.