Writings by Dan Dooley

March 13 2017

Victim

I was a victim.

Diet Coke.

Dressed to impress, spark your interest,

All eyes on me.

Why you so serious?

You’re so intense, maybe why I’m so curious.

I see myself all over you for sure.

Love me, hate me, kiss me, take me, break me, make me your's.

Stay with me tonight.

Baby just close your eyes,

Make your toes curl,

Lights real low,

Smoke fills the night.

I want to hypnotise, you are going to fantasise.

Here boy, down boy,

Let’s play a game:

Keep your mouth closed don’t say a thing,

Start off with whips and chains, but now it’s time to bring the pain.

I just wanted to have a little fun.

You belong to me,

You’re in good hands, you ain’t gotta run from me.

Sleep tight; don’t let the bedbugs bite,

I’m going to eat your insides like a fucking parasite.

Here I come.

I’m back,

Back from the dead.

Why you running?

I’m hungry for your soul.

You better pray to your God that you’ll ever make it home.

Your blood when it drips,

Tastes so delicious.

Oh damn, that flavour so good.

I’m an animal,

Love me.

There is no salvation in Hell, there’s no savior in Hell, there’s no Bible in Hell,

there’s no forgiveness in Hell, what ever goes to Hell, stays in Hell.

Even though I was a victim, in the end,

I became a villain.

March 3 2017

Little Red Riding Ho

Once upon a time there was a little boy who lived in a queer little village called Green Witch. Whenever he went out the little boy wore a red baseball cap, which he wore back to front so everyone knew that he was hip, and in the queer little village called him Little Red Ho.
One morning, Little Red Ho asked his drag mother if he could go to visit his Granddaddy as it had been awhile since they'd seen each other and had a little ki ki.
"Sickening," his drag mother said. So they packed a nice basket with a big frilly bow and a bottle of poppers as an extra special treat for Little Red Ho to take to his Grandaddy.
When the basket with the big frilly bow was ready, the little boy put on his red baseball cap and kissed his drag mother goodbye.
"Remember, go straight to Granddaddy's house," his drag mother warned. "Don't dawdle along the way and please don't talk to strangers! The Forest is dangerous, all those nasty little boys waiting around with needles and other little nasties to catch you with."
"Don't worry, mawma," said Little Red Ho, "I'll be extra careful."
Silly Little Red Ho he forgot his promise to his drag mother to avoid The Forest. But it wasn’t his fault that The Forest just so happened to be next door to the cutest boutique with the nicest pair of leather chaps he had ever seen. He waited, he lingered, felt the leather under his fingers, smelt it, even tried to taste, while the queens cackled and waltzed on by in boas and feather trim down the streets of Green Witch.
Little Red Ho was enjoying the warm summer day so much, that he didn't notice a dark shadow approaching out of The Forest behind him.
Suddenly, the Wolf appeared beside him. Hairy, rough and manly: far too manly for Little Red Ho. This wasn’t the kind of man that mama warned me about, thought Little Red Ho.
"What are you doing out here, little boy? Don’t you know this is where all those nasty little boys wait around?" the Wolf asked in a voice as thick as honey and as deep as gravel.
"I'm on my way to see my Granddaddy who lives past The Forest, down near the bridge," Little Red Ho replied.
Then he realised how late he was and quickly excused himself, speeding down the street to his Granddady's house.
The Wolf, took a shortcut, for he knew these streets all too well.
The Wolf, a little out of breath from running, the beer and a generally poor diet, arrived at Granddaddy's and knocked lightly at the door.
"Oh thank goodness dear! Come through little boy! I was worried sick that something had happened to you down by The Forest with all those nasty little boys," said Granddaddy thinking that the knock was his favourite twink he had messaged on Grindr not ten minutes before.
The Wolf let himself in. Poor Granddaddy did not have time to say another word, before he was gagged, bound and blindfolded, and rolled neatly under the bed!
Little did the Wolf know that this was the way Granddaddy loved to play.
With the Wolf far too satisfied with himself, he poked through Granddaddy's wardrobe to find a leather shirt that fit just right. He added a gimp mask, and for good measure, huffed some of Granddaddy’s poppers to give him that extra little buzz.
A few minutes later, Little Red Ho knocked on the door. The Wolf jumped into bed and pulled the covers over his nose. "Who is it?" he called in a croaking voice.
"It's me, Little Red Ho."
"Oh how lovely! Do come in, my dear," beckoned the Wolf.
When Little Red Ho entered the little apartment, he could scarcely recognise his Granddaddy.
"Granddaddy! Your voice sounds so odd. Is something the matter? Too many poppers?" he asked.
"Oh, I just have touch of a cold," squeaked the Wolf adding a cough at the end to prove the point.
"But Granddaddy! What big beard you have," said Little Red Ho as he edged closer to the bed.
"Well all the cutest twinks love it," replied the Wolf.
"But Granddaddy! What big hands you have," said Little Red Ho.
"The better to grab the sweetest twinks with," replied the Wolf.
"But Granddaddy! What big tongue you have," said Little Red Ho, his voice quivering slightly.
"The better to neck you with, my dear," roared the Wolf and he leapt out of the bed and began to chase the little boy.
Almost too late, Little Red Ho realised that the person in the bed was not his Granddaddy, but the hungry Wolf from The Forest.
He ran across the room and through the door, shouting, "Help! Wolf!" as loudly
as he could.
A big and burly Woodsman, plaid clad, who was playing with wood nearby heard his cry, fastened his belt and ran towards the apartment as fast as he could.
He grabbed the Wolf and made him spit out where he had put the poor Granddaddy who was a bit frazzled by the whole experience, but still in one
piece, and totally up for being gagged and bound again. "Oh Granddaddy, I was so scared!" sobbed Little Red Ho, "I'll never speak to strangers or dawdle near The Forest again."
"There, there, child. You've learned an important lesson. Thank goodness you shouted loud enough for this kind woodsman to hear you!"
The Woodsman knocked out the Wolf and left him on the curbside for someone important to deal with him, but remember this is Green Witch, and no one official really helps in Green Witch.
Little Red Ho and his Granddaddy a long chat, and later Granddaddy helped Little Red Ho get ready for a date with the big and burly Woodsman.

February 27 2017

Hemingway

The road circles round to the turning. On both sides the buildings were bleak and grey. In the centre pops a black painted pub, sat opposite, an uncomfortable Turkish. They walk in and sit to the right. The table sat away from the bar with enough distance to be heard but not enough to be understood. A yellow light capped with a black hat hung above them. Without looking up, one asks,
“What table number are we?”
“15”

February 11 2017

LGBT

Too punk for the gay scene, too pop for the rock scene, too femme for the straight scene. How can I feel included in LGBT and queer spaces when only one brand of gay exists? I have found love under the flashing lights. I have made many a friend standing out, smoking, wisps of smoke trailing out of my mouth, drunk off of too much Jagermeister.

February 10 2017

Coffee

Cup of coffee and a cigarette. Early mornings, crisp blue sunrises.

Cup of coffee and a cigarette. Early mornings, crisp blue sunrises. Cold bright green.

Cup of coffee and a cigarette. Early mornings, crisp blue sunrises. Cold bright green. Mornings in at university.

Cup of coffee and a cigarette. Early mornings, crisp blue sunrises. Cold bright green. Mornings in at university. Days wasted away.

I don’t even fucking like coffee.

February 3 2017

1

Listening to the Blues, down in Bristol. Looking in, S.W. rough and P.S. smooth, drink the night away. Kipling! The door opens, alerting their attention to outside, where I stare in.

February 3 2017

The casual conversation of the contents of a student's fridge, mentioned fleetingly

"I only have a cucumber."

February 3 2017

Lemongrab

lemon yellow warm yellow mottled with brown and flecks of grey like a bruise you left on my arm mottled and flecked based with lemon yellow a rainbow bruise of ripened green and sallowed brown violent violets
lemon sweet soft citrus fresh as you rest in the crook of my arm I smell you fresh soft sweet softened sweetened as I pull you in tender close
lemon cold yet warmed firmed and tendered as your balls heavy rest in my palm with juice and essence filled ready to burst like a rotten fruit
lemon bitter sharp bitter I wait beneath you to squirt but I don’t want juice in my eye your bitterness is my bitterness eager to please
lemon thud so gentle like that bruise you supply that slap you administer that punch choke chokened short of breath gentle thud not to hurt delicate flower
lemon rounded and curved as I watch you lay tired from the day asleep I watch and follow the goosebumps and dimples curving over and under rounded rump

January 27 2017

Yardsale

Bong
Dildo
Communist Manifesto
Compact mirror
Marlboro Lights
Fox fur
Doc Martens
Lighter
Shard of glass
Locket
Trump poster
Mein Kampf
High grade PVC
Whiskey
Snakeskin boots
Heavy duty chain
Trilby
Dusty Bible
Josticks
Karma Sutra
Ribbon of hair
Pen knife
Matches
Elastic bands
Twine
Brick nails
Pot of nail trimmings
Piss

January 27 2017

Dickens

Raindrops plop like tears. Rolling down the grey façade and off the roof. Rain puddled and collected and spooled like a small flood. Rain spouted out of gutters and onto the heads of passers by. Rain filled pockets and shoes and socks, each pedestrian carried their own personal sea. Rain collected in hats and doorsteps and shop floors and bedroom sills like overflowing bathtubs. One bathtub had submerged due to the excessive rain; futile to how many buckets had emptied it.

January 27 2017

Ain't no love

Ain’t no love in the heart of the city
Fuck you fuck them fuck us
You left the door
Wide open fuck you
You left me
Wide open
Fuck them
The curb cracked my jaw
Wide open
Split my lip
Wide open
Fuck you
As you sped off
Leaving me
Wide open
Fuck this shit man
Fuck you

January 20 2017

Dan Dooley

Builders, builders being in a building erecting monuments to dead and forgotten deities of old eons faggots and party queens choking on whiskey and cum, rag clad and lost getting high and cracked up in the shadowy corners bareback fucking and shooting up to escape the days gone by trying to get lost to forget to fuck the regrets away and shit and crap and fuck all this nonsense

away waking the belly of the beast sucking on the tit of the wanky shit motherand the sweetened milk of it all

DAN DOOLEY STAY SAFE

I am standing but I can’t walk in I want to but I can’t I want to feel but I can’t it hear it all but it won’t stop I want to reach out and touch and feel that space of comfort but there is no warmth in that space I don’t see the party lights of the whole I want to feel the embrace and kiss of the heroin but not that heroine I feel the claws rise up and scratch and pull not to pull me down but in their shadowy hold I feel safer away from the light above I see people kneel and stare but I stay paused stoic stiff rocky stone until I feel the urge to stop and move but I can’t, I’m caught up but I can’t leave but I can’t stay I want an embrace I don’t have it isn’t fair but silence is all I hear and see around the corner and vexes and polished floor

A painting of fucked up party and hazy smog fucking cherub kids and dragons and wings and swords and giant people standing over buildings cupids screaming praises of jubilant rejoice begging in the land of gods and monsters to fucking stay here in the glory

Pray to some shit-stained turd of a fucker to the rotting fuckers who long dead good-riddance all I ever want is to escape and burn this corpse to the ground all I want is the smoke in my eyes and in my mouth and I will taste that fucker burn

I feel sober in that burning warmth of silence, it is long and thick and it chokes me in a way that I feel apologetic for cos I didn’t want to watch or see or smell that warm stench but it floods my nostrils and tears at my throat but it is better than raw and naked and

I gag at the stench retch and puke but I hear screams and it is okay I feel pierced and skewered roasted over a fire I feel on show I know that they hate me but this place is my escape I know I am watching and I am not safe but to purge again and to fuck that warmth away to fuck it all in the face and make it feel the misery I felt fear senses the way I can make it right but there is no right

but right by me and as I feel it enter and pull out I feel pleasure that doesn’t belong here but it makes me thicken and to think I know this in this space makes it taste even sweeter like ambrosia off a taint trickling down my chin and my chops are slathered but I can’t stop and I won’t stop

I want to fuck that headless corpse

I have fucked Dan Dooley’s corpse

January 20 2017

Bathhouse Bette/I Want You/The Continental

There is no one here beside me
And my problems have all gone
I see bodies writhe and unfurl and curl and sweat drips
The waterfall runs
I want you
There is no one to derive me
I lick the sweat that drips down the curve of your back
But you got to have friends
As I feel your hand clamp down on my shoulder
You push me down
But you got to have friends
I want you
But something came and took them away
Hearts are beating fast and the blood is pumping
Throbbing and thrashing
And crashing
Standing at the end of the road
Waiting for my new friends to come
I feel you throb in the palm of my hand
Strong and proud you stand
I won’t care if I am hungry or cold
You with the fiery eyes
I want you
Till the dawn
The bodies writhe and wriggle and rustle around
I won’t care if I am hungry or cold
I want you
You got to have friends
The waterfall runs
Till the dawn

April 16 2016

If you go down