A man sits on a chair, centered to those around,
aware of them, glancing briefly waiting.
He developed a taste, this bag however only teased
his receptors, and gave more burn than ease.
******* is a fine art, to which is paid a king's ransom;
the shaft, though Godly, was not bound for glory...
how he wanted!

There was an exchange of stories, striking similarities;
he had been joined by others, relocated, and told to start over.
Mystics popped the cap, dismissing gender...
how they wanted!

A man sat in a bar;
no knowledge of modern era,
ceiling had tired tiles, a friend sang
to a new lover, and
two in love danced to karaoke,
in sync to their drunken state,
how he loved her!

The party was lavish;
gay youth empowered,
a welcome meat market of pulsing power,
a man sat on the couch...
watching, two ladies necked beside him,
together they danced to sultry tones,
eyes scanning, heads turned, smiles,
how he wanted.