Number 166 Summer 2016 $9.95 SummerIn many of our lives we’ve been inspired, opened up by substances of various kinds but we’re also either in our own personal experience or witnessing the experience of others seen the affect substances can have on our lives. At early gatherings, as a way of mocking those who could “handle” substance one pointed at someone and said “archetype” —the sacred shaman, one who dances between the worlds while on the other hand one pointed to others in a more sarcastic way and said “stereo- type”—someone who could handle their “stuff”—the outcast, the sacred clown, the one dancing in the ash grounds. How have substances affected your substance? Have they sustained you or have you sustained them? There seems to be a line between reaching an ecstatic state, a place of seeing, and having that same line becoming a falling off point for so many of us. How do we as people, as a commu- nity, create a substantial culture while not being consumed by the substanc- es which many of us seem to use or require to reach a state of transfor- mation? And while not wanting to be a conversation about “Just Say No” (buh-bye Nancy) it does merit a conversation about where sacred shamanic roles for substances inter- act with our everyday experience of community building in queer space. RFD is asking for all perspectives on this but we’re looking for hon- est heartfelt responses and thought- ful ideas. So please consider ways of sharing ideas about creating a space for the conversation about substances, asking ourselves about how to interact with that cultural but especially as we see people in dire need impacted by substance use lose touch with the shamanic and fall into dependence and illness. Many readers have asked us for ways to reach out to people about the substances in their lives, impact- ing their experience and health and in many ways alienating them from the community while we all try to remain “cool” about people’s choices. Obviously, we’re all building bound- aries for ourselves on substance use in our personal life, but how do we dialog about it as the community and personal level when people we care about are being negatively impacted by it? Issue 167 / Fall 2016 SUBSTANCE Submission Deadline: July 21, 2016 www.rfdmag.org/upload RFD 166 Summer 2016 1 Rays Fondle Derrièrs Vol 42 No 3 #166 Summer 2016 Ah summer days… Thanks to our readers contributions we’re able to give you a nice package of sum- mer reading and browsing in between a morning swim, a round of weeding in the garden or a trek cross country. We’re glad you’re taking us on for the ride. Much of the issue is filled with short stories, comics and poetry which evokes memories of summer, of love and snapshots and images of summer and nature. Meanwhile, we’re heading out the door to pick up our farm share and begin tell- ing folks about upcoming issues—the fall issue focused on Substances and how they impact our lives and communities while the winter issue is a celebration of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence—we’re featured the Sisters in many prior issue but never devoted an issue to our favorite service organization. So enjoy your summer, sip some ice tea and enjoy the issue. From your summer pals in sunny New England —RFD Collective PS - We’re running a special over the next month—new subscribers get a two year subscription for $40 (USA only). Tell your friends! Between the Lines2 RFD 166 Summer 2016 RFD is a reader-written journal for gay people which focuses on country living and encourages alternative life- styles. We foster community building and networking, explore the diverse expressions of our sexuality, care for the environment, Radical Faerie consciousness, and nature-centered spirituality, and share experiences of our lives. RFD is produced by volun- teers. We welcome your participation. The business and general production are coordinated by a collective. Features and entire issues are prepared by different groups in various places. RFD (ISSN# 0149-709X) is published quarterly for $25 a year by RFD Press, P.O. Box 302, Hadley MA 01035-0302. Postmaster: Send address changes to RFD, P.O. Box 302, Hadley MA 01035-0302. Non-profit tax exempt #62-1723644, a function of RFD Press with office of registration at 231 Ten Penny Rd., Woodbury, TN 37190. RFD Cover Price: $9.95. A regular subscription is the least expensive way to receive it four times a year. First class mailed issues will be forwarded. Others will not. Send address changes to submissions@rfdmag.org or to our Hadley, MA address. Copyright © RFD Press. The records required by Title 18 U.S.D. Section 2257 and as- sociated with respect to this magazine (and all graphic material associated therewith on which this label appears) are kept by the custodian of records at the following location: RFD Press, 85 N Main St, Ste 200, White River Junction, VT 05001. On the Covers Front & Back : “ Untitled” by Leo Serpens Production Managing Editor: Bambi Gauthier Assistant Editor: Rosie Delicious Art Director: Matt Bucy Artists in this Issue Chris Moody 2, 4, 18, 19, 21 Leo Serpens 9, 13, 25, 26, 32-33, Cover Wes Hartley 15 Peacockfaerie 17, 29 Dragon / Arthur Durkee 22, 58 Scribble 49, 51, 53, 55, 56 BBha! 59 Keith Gemerek 63 Submission Deadlines Fall–July 21, 2016 Winter–October 21, 2016 See inside covers for themes and specifics. For advertising, subscriptions, back issues and other information visit www.rfdmag.org “Maine” / Photograph by Chris Moody RFD 166 Summer 2016 3 CONTENTS Announcements ................................ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 My Favorite Summer ...........................Perry McCrackin .................6 I Am a Wilderness .............................Leo Serpens .....................9 Magnolia Boulevard ...........................Hank Henderson ................10 That You, Dawn? ..............................Charles Springer ................12 A Country Boy’s Love Song .....................James Robert Rudolph ...........14 Surfacing .....................................Daniel Stephens. ................16 Photographs ..................................Chris Moody ...................18 The Way We Drive .............................Samuel E. Cole ..................20 Boy Sutra .....................................Dragon (Arthur Durkee) .........23 The Summer Electric. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e.c. patrick .....................24 Waiting for that Morning .......................Mark Ellis ......................27 My Lover Falling Asleep ........................Mark Ellis ......................30 Summer Symphony ............................Rob McCabe ...................31 The Dunes ....................................Jason A. Quest & Tom Bouden ...32 Larry Stanton Through the Eyes of Poet Winthrop Smith ...................... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 Have You Felt the Weight of the Sea at Night? .........................Lars Horn ......................48 You Can’t Fake a Bed Lake ......................Britt MacLeod ..................50 Metonymy ....................................Stephen Mead ..................52 Uncertain Summer ............................Stephen Mead ..................54 Kawashaway ..................................Finger .........................57 Bathing Harry .................................Verbena Starhole ................58 Jok Church Has Departed For Parts Unknown ....Richard Bolingbroke ............59 Lamar Freeman Jackson, Jr. .....................Ashley Pool ....................60 Musings on a Friendship .......................Jaybird Chirp/Jay Warren ........61 Hidea di Gorgia aka Michael Shea ...............Dogwood Bark! .................62“John” / Photograph by Chris Moody RFD 166 Summer 2016 5 sex magick faeriesexmagick.org 169 - First level June 18-25 - Folleterre Sanctuary, France July 2-9 - Wolf Creek Sanctuary, Oregon Aug 13-20 - Faerie Camp Destiny, Vermont 269 - Second level September 16-23 - Northern California Announcements XRYSALIS is an annual event celebrating Queer, Transgender, and Intersex People of Color and all of our majik. Over the course of 3 days become immersed in a space dedicated to restoring and celebrating our collective power. This is a gathering for us and by US. XRYSALIS is where the creators of culture, the young or just young at heart, the gifted, the creative come together and empow- etr one another through fashion, art, activism, food and connection. This ambitious and necessary event has the potential to empower OUR vision: one of collective engagement, celebration, community, and, most importantly, heal- ing and restoration. XRYSALIS a QTIPOC gatheringCarrying the weight of a world that tries to define us and use our bodies without recognizing that we are human is exhausting. With this event, we have an opportunity to step outside of that world for 3 days and work to- gether to create a new one. Together we can create a space where we can be re-energized and reborn. We are working to make sure this gathering will really serve OUR community. Click through on the link to find out more about the organizer, gathering activities, and registration. Contact: Groundswell Institute, 18500 Highway 128 Yorkville, CA 95494 / 707-901-7059. Featuring Jim Jackson and Robert DuGrenier6 RFD 166 Summer 2016 T he summer of 81 a few of the other kids in the neighborhood played show-and-tell. The old saying, you can be curious only once, never applied to Tyler and me. After that summer I wanted a pri- vate show-and-tell with Tyler. In our small neighborhood during the summer months on Saturday night, you could always find a few teenagers gathering in the parking lot behind the church. The single street light kept it bright so we could play basketball long after dark. Teams would be divided up into Shirts and Skins. I purposely would make an effort to bump into a Skin during these games. Feeling another sweaty body was intoxicating. I would on occasion make a back-to-torso action with Tyler, trying to steal the ball. We had finished playing basketball late that night and said our good- byes riding Tyler’s Yamaha 100 dirt bike into the night. The wind quickly dried our sweaty torsos and clothes. I felt my cock grow as it vibrated against his ass as I rode bitch. Taking the back roads home we stopped at the Point, where Tyler’s brother was throwing a last- of-summer camping party. The Point was a large enough spot to accommodate a small camping party with water on three sides…perfect for teenage boys with an abundance of time, testosterone and tequila. It was hot and humid that late summer night. Tyler cut the engine and coasted into a hidden spot just off the back road. We heard yelling and shouting echoing off the lake. “What the fuck is happening over there?” I asked. Tyler looked in the direction of the campsite and shrugged: “I don’t know.” He turned and lifted the bike seat, retrieving a pack of cigarettes. Tyler relaxed and propped himself on the bike seat. He tapped the pack and several cigarettes slid from the pack, offering me one. “Thanks.” I squatted, stretching my hamstrings, allowing my eyes to travel up the outline of Tyler’s legs to the apex of his firm flesh. He grabbed his crotch, instinctively placing his fingers in the ever-widening hole made by the open zipper. Tyler let his fingers play a little longer, feeling the dampness beneath his aching nuts and the heaviness of a four-day load. A grin came across his face as he offered me a light, hoping I might smell the funk on his fingers. Did he just fondle himself? Tyler’s baby blue eyes flashed in the light accompanied by a teasingly impish grin. As my eyes readjusted to the darkness, I saw his muscular silhouette encased in a wife-beater T-shirt. The reflective light from the cigarette’s glowing ember that hung from the corner of his mouth highlighted his straight nose and square chin. I wanted him. I stood up taking another drag off my cigarette before tossing it. I reached out to feel his pecs when he produced a joint. “Ready for this?” Holding a small joint. He watched my reaction as I looked toward his broth- er’s camping party getting louder. “Chill, we got plenty of time. Just one smoke.” I didn’t care if we got there or not, I was happy being with him. I enjoyed Tyler’s company regard- less of the party in the woods. He waved a perfectly rolled joint in a spiral circle, saying. “Open the hanger, here comes the plane, rrrrrr,” placing it in my open lips, “let’s burn this before we go.” “Gotta light?” I mumbled. H e placed his cigarette in his mouth and inhaled. I leaned in closer matching his stance. I placed my hands on his shoulders to balance myself, slowly and provocatively kissing the tip of his fire with the joint. He reached up and held my shoulders, keeping me close. I shivered from the jolt of excitement of being with him. He pulled me closer wrapping one arm around me, pulling my hips against his. I felt his heat against my already rigid cock. I pulled back, to see his wide grin as he took the joint from my mouth. “You’re a bad, bad boy.” I exhaled. “But you love it.” We both laughed. “Maybe.” I teased. He opened his mouth placing the joint inside offering me a shot gun. I tilted my head closer inhaling all the smoke, pushing my dick against him. He released me as I stood back to gain my balance. He took my hand placing it on the lengthening flesh in his shorts. I gave him a grin. “Really you wanna go there now?” “No, we don’t have to do anything. I just thought …” My Favorite Summer by Perry McCrackin RFD 166 Summer 2016 7 “Oh I see.” I grinned, taking another toke off the joint and squeezing his stiffness. “I just thought, you and I, in the woods on a Saturday night, alone for a moment…” I leaned in and kissed his forehead. “You’re my best friend,” he hesitated, becoming very solemn. “I enjoy spending time with you and hope we can continue this through out the school year.” His baby blue eyes searched my face for a sign. “How could I resist those puppy dog eyes of yours?” Feeling his cock continue to lengthen as I returned his gaze. I pressed against his crotch, rubbing our strain- ing cocks together through the fabric. I puffed on the joint a couple of times, creating a small cloud between our faces. “New stuff?” I rasped, holding the smoke inside my expanding lungs. I offered the joint to Tyler. He motioned for me to take another hit. “Yeah,” reaching down to adjust his cock. “Panama Red, a little goes a long way.” “A little…?” Looking down at his cock. He blew me a kiss. We finished the joint and Tyler put the roach back under the seat. “Let’s do this.” He whispered I followed Tyler into the dark forest, following the scent of burning wood as we meandered down the familiar gully washed trail. The bugs buzzing, crick- ets chirping and frogs croaking were just part of the Point. We slowed occasionally, catching our breath, admiring the towering canopy of pines. Tyler pulled his cigarette pack from his pocket and retrieved a small joint from inside the cellophane. “Let’s finish this before we get there.” I was already pretty high but he inhaled quickly taking a deep draw, then passed the joint. Taking a toke, I thought I saw a shadow dart in the woods. I recalled of earlier camping trips how the older kids would tell ghost stories in an attempt to scare us. It worked the first few times, but the routine never got old. Each time new kids would come along they would be initiated into the Dude Club. “Hey, Bogart.” Tyler tugged on my belt buckle, pulling me closer to him. Our chests collided, causing me to blow the smoke in his face. “When did you get this?” His free hand toyed with my dragonfly buckle. “I’ve had it for a while now.” My pulse jumped when Tyler’s hand grabbed the buckle. His brute strength yanked my pelvis closer as his fingers toyed just above my pubic hair. “Looks like a hindrance to me.” The joint hung from his mouth as he struggled with both hands to open the buckle. I took the joint from him, placing the cherry in my mouth and of- fered him a shotgun. He took the bait and stopped fucking with the belt buckle long enough to take the hit. Tyler held me closer. He gently placed his lips be- low my ear as his hands massaged my ass. He gave a low growl followed by a soft humming as he traced his lips along my neck and jaw. I squirmed against him trying to free myself against the hardness of his dick and tight embrace. Tyler relaxed his bear hug and grasped my jaw and pulled my lips toward his. Then Tyler’s lips pressed hard against mine. He began to exhale and I breathed in the smoke mixed with his essence. Savoring the air that had been his, I returned it to him, again. I felt his heart pound against my chest as our shared breath danced between us. Our cocks lengthened straining to be free. The euphoric feeling intensified, along with my hunger for Tyler’s cock in my mouth. Our kiss slowed and I broke away. I popped the top button of his shorts letting them fall to the ground. Tyler’s lengthening cock pushed against his briefs. I moved my fingers down to the head of his cock. My eyes never left his gaze as I massaged his fat cockhead only to find his briefs soaked with precum. Tyler’s breath quickened. A soft moan came from deep within my chest. I tweaked his nipples. He shuddered and inhaled sharply as I coaxed them into hard little berries with my fingers. He placed his hand behind my head pulling me down to his chest. My tongue swirled around his taunt nipples, then I gently rolled them in my mouth. Tyler’s breathing quickened, his erec- tion pulsing in my hand. I pressed my lips against his, our tongues danced inside each other, probing deeper. We tore at each other’s clothes. Tyler rushed to pull my t-shirt over my head. I heard it rip as he pulled, I didn’t care. Our cocks bounced with new-found freedom. His silhouette in the darkness commanded the space around him. In this moment, my desire for Tyler knew no bounds I was his and he was mine. I held his cock in my hand as my tongue followed a dried salty trail down to his cock. I fell to my knees and licked the head of his throbbing cock. He wrapped his hand around the base of his thick manhood and stroked upward. I Next >