Blacula Diary

Blacula Diary
—for Philip Larkin

Loving Jerome back then—
Wasn’t an easy thing to do
Sometimes old rock & roll songs—
Still make me feel guilty and blue

Little things like his smirky look—
Going spastic in my arms in bed
“Ugh’s” sprawling out of his open mouth—
Long hyphenated snaky “ooh’s & aah’s”

His face distending down off the bed—
Slacker slack-jawed kid on the floor
The unfailing sense of him being young—
And feeling more alive than dead

Spreading him out like a deck of cards—
Teenage mulatto Solitaire kid-brother
Summer-swollen elm trees overhead—
Come Back Little Sheba Street
His thug snug in his shorts—
Sliding them down just for me
An ice-cold beer afterwards—
Getting my kid brother off

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