I have been to the dungeons

Lannie Rose, 11/2006

I have been to the dungeons,
Where corpulent, bare-breasted women are shackled to crosses,
And flogged with whips of leather, horsehair, rope,
The spanking gloves are heavy, the welts are real,
And the screams mix pain and ecstasy.
(My screams, but not my escstasy.)
Oh, I have been to the dungeons.

I have been to the sex clubs,
Where hollow-eyed men dressed only in towels,
Wander through the rooms, begging for release,
They watch with hunger as others get it on,
And stroke themselves in envious contemplation.
(Contemplation of me!)
Oh, I have been to the sex clubs.

I have been to the gay bars
Where bare-chested men gyrate crotch-to-ass,
The pounding house beat drowning out the talk,
Pickups for a night or a quick fuck,
The bathrooms full of blow, and being blown,
(Well, just a taste.)
Oh, I have been to the gay bars.

I have been to the raves,
Where young people, stoked on chemicals,
Shiver and shake to throbbing trance music,
Eyes, wide with ecstasy, follow the lasers and whirling light sticks,
And couples, on mats, languorously stroke each other's bodies.
(Please stroke me.)
Oh, I have been to the raves.

I have been to drag clubs,
Where sultry, big-haired vixens ply their craft,
Lip-syncing disco hits and joking lewd,
Cross-dressers with a pass to flirt and dance,
Transsexuals longing to be normal for a night.
(Oh, to be normal.)
Oh, I have been to the drag clubs.

I have been to the furrie cons,
Where life-size cartoon animals frolic,
A slender lizard darts from place to place,
Klingons carouse (they must be lost in space),
And scritching kitty brings pleasure to us both.
(Here, kitty, kitty!)
Oh, I have been to the furrie cons.

I have been to the goth clubs,
Where heavy-booted dancers all in black,
Stomp out their furious, eccentric dance,
While Satanic music everlasting rumbles,
Perhaps a dungeon in the back, dripping with fire and wax.
(I wore black, too.)
Oh, I have been to the goth clubs.

I have been to the swingers parties,
Where small talk kills the hours before the orgy,
As the participants gather with the quiet confidence,
Of knowing they will all get some tonight.
Then, on the mattress, couplings of all kinds.
(And triplings, and more, as I recall.)
Oh, I have been to the swingers parties.

I have been to the women's clubs,
Where leather and denim clad dykes shoot pool,
Female couples bop or sway in sweet embrace,
Dancers on platforms in bikinis,
A lone, puzzled dude wonders why he cannot score.
(Why don't you hit on me, you dunce?)
Oh, I have been to the women's clubs.

Oh, many things I've seen, and places, been,
Not just to watch, but to participate,
Yet without one to love, it's just a game,
And therefore, on I search to find my mate.

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