crowded sports

bar thirty men

rut and grasp

each other’s

jerseys, plunge

noses deep

into necks

and pits

and claw

straight lines

down spines

the all blacks

play the lions

every eye

on tight shorts

and spanish

singlets one

goes shirtless

after a try

but no-one

cheers I stare

grasp his pants

for the lift

accentuate

his glory

they fall

dogpile one

on top

another

another

covered

sweaty

deep breathing

heaving chests

biceps push

away in rising

and my negroni

arrives I sip

and watch

the game

as men

watch men

touching men

the first time

a man touched

me with this

passion

I was sat

in his chair

and he asked

how much

I wanted

oh—all but

the last inch

he got

to work

his scissors

dancing

across my scalp

as locks fell

to the freshly-

swept floor

his thick fingers

pulled my hair

and his humming

raised the skin

all over

he said lower

as he pushed

my head down

and I couldn’t hold

from my lips

a yes sir