Ah, to be a young homosexual, coming of age under the watchful eye of one's doting mother. London-based writer and broadcaster Richard Scott — who characterizes his relationship with his mother as good by the way — submitted two poems, which we suspect will touch and excite BUTT readers this Mother's Day. Although his poems are not always autobiographical, Scott explains, 'They play around with the idea of being confessional…'
‘Under the Apple Tree’
Seeing the shirtless red-haired boy
by the shed, like a watchman’s shed, I ask for the way
he’s much older and I’m a great liar,
I’ve been here before
but this is my first time…
in the scrub he pushes me
to my knees then places his fingers in my mouth
as apple blossom, just lighter than skin, brushes his shoulder
but then he says he’s got a condom — could fuck me here
if I fancy.
From inside the empty shed I sense
my mother, welling up, as she watches
but I don’t stop till he finishes in my mouth…
All the things I would do to you:
wet my tongue, lick
your thigh, stop
when I tasted hair, cup
your balls as I kissed
your mouth, bite
your lip, pinch
your nipples raw…
How hard I was. I
measured myself for you, relayed
the inches over the phone, compared
mine to a bull’s — anything
to turn you on but still careful
to listen for clicks on the line
in case mum had picked up the receiver
and you were recording me. Every word
onto your dad’s Sony Dictaphone.
Made me repeat RICHARD SCOTT
over and over — so there could be no doubt
and if I came near you again:
Everyone at school will hear it faggot! Then you hung up.
Richard Scott’s poetry has appeared in Poetry Review; The Poetry of Sex, a Penguin Anthology; and Best British Poetry 2014. When he’s not composing verse, Richard’s hosting his own radio show, The Opera Hour, over at London’s beloved Resonance 104.4 fm.