RFD 192 Winter 2022 1 NEVER AGAIN Number 192 Winter 2022 • $11.95Issue 193 / Spring 2023 GAY BAR Submission Deadline: January 21, 2023 www.rfdmag.org/upload The Spike. Ramrod. The Corner Pocket. JR’s. The Stud. CC’s. The A House. The Cock. When it comes to well-known queer spaces, little can rival the dominance of gay bars. The first ones in the U.S. opened in the 1930s, and by the late 1980s, according to one estimate, the country was home to more than 1,700. And now? Between 2007 and 2019, some 37 percent of gay bars have closed—and that was before the coronavirus pandemic. All of which means, many of the places queer folks gathered in the past may no lon- ger exist. But just because those spaces may be gone, it doesn’t mean our memories are. Maybe you worked in a gay bar as a bar- back or maybe you just worked the back- room. Maybe that’s where you performed an epic drag number that queens still talk about. Or maybe you detested gay bars because you felt ignored or unseen. Maybe you avoided them because you found it difficult, if not impossible, to enter a space that challenged your sobriety. Or maybe you think: Why would I miss those crummy hellholes when I’ve got Scruff? Chances are, you’ve got feelings about gay bars. And even if you don’t, you probably have a good story about one. If you’ve got something to say about gay bars, RFD wants to hear it. And now’s not the time to be shy and stand by the wall. Last call for submis- sions January 21, 2023. San Francisco listing from the Gayellow Pages, 1988. Photograph by Gaby Tenda. RFD 192 Winter 2022 1 Respite From Dingos Vol 49 No 2 #192 Winter 2022 Between the Lines Welcome to the winter issue of RFD. We’re toasty warm and reflecting upon situations where one thinks to one’s self, Never Again. Readers submitted pieces about personal loss, war, and the tribulations of searching for one’s self. While others wrote about the complexities of relationships, creating closeness and over- coming adversity. It’s been a rough year for joy and pleasure but as we regroup it’s wise to allow for what to let go of from one’s life and see what things have slid away without our noticing. RFD exists for our readers and we love reading and reviewing the submissions you send, so please submit your stories, poems, essays and art to our pages, your fellow readers will love you. If you have an idea for a theme also be in touch. We’re always looking for ways to reach our readers with ideas we haven’t covered before. As RFD reaches towards it’s golden anniversary in 2024, we hope you will consider making a donation, large or small to help keep RFD going. We don’t need much but things like printing and postage have increased. We’d like to keep our subscription rate manageable but allowing folks to donate what they can to keep things rolling. Our rough operating budget is $6,500 per quarter or $26,000 a year. As we enter this season of cool earthy reflection, may everyone have a wonderful Winter solstice. From the sloggy trails of Vermont —The RFD Collective2 RFD 192 Fall 2022 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: $11.95. 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. Production Managing Editor: Bambi Gauthier Production Editor: Matt Bucy Submission Deadlines Spring–January 21, 2023 Summer–April 21, 2023 See inside covers for themes and specifics. For advertising, subscriptions, back issues and other information visit www.rfdmag.org. To read online visit www.issuu.com/rfmag . Visual Contributors Inside This Issue Images or pieces not directly associated with an article. Artboydancing. ............................2, 35 Richard Vyse ..............................5, 39 Gregory T. Wilkins ........................18, 51 Duncan Hilton. ..............................20 bb ..........................................33 Dragon (Art Durkee) .........................49 Matt Bucy. ..................................62 Jeff Schuler. ..................................63 See-ming Lee ..................Back Inside Cover "I Look Good Today" by Artboydancing. RFD 192 Winter 2022 3 CONTENTS Chipped Pieces ...........................A. Scott Henderson ....................4 Winter Gatherings ..............................................................4 Night at the Park .........................Luna .................................6 Two Men Kissing .........................Andre Le Mont Wilson .................8 Hollywood ...............................Frank Castelluccio .....................9 The Cupcake .............................Thanos ..............................19 Shut Your Eyes, Oh God! ..................Lisa Monde ..........................23 The Death Of Irony .......................Mountaine ...........................29 My Rosenkavalier. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Bob Henry, aka Smiley ................34 Never Again… Hands Up, Don’t Shoot ......Gregory T. Wilkins, a.k.a. Equus ........36 Memory is a Funnel .......................Ron Madson .........................37 Spilled Coffee and a Skinned Knee ..........Nicholas Yandell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Healing .................................Kelvin Beliele ........................41 Three Poems ............................Alexander Perez ......................42 Four Poems ..............................Sugar le Fae ..........................44 Three Spells ..............................Wonderful ...........................45 Never Again .............................Clayre Benzadon .....................46 “Layla” ..................................K.C. Rose ............................47 Poem ...................................Lucid in Luzern ......................50 Midnight in Byzantium ...................Claude Chabot .......................52 Weeder (James Ferguson) .................Daz'l ................................62 Jason Schneider ..........................Rachel Kerner ........................63Yule / New Years Gatherette Dec 23 - Jan 2 Wolf Creek OR www.nomenus.org Wasdale New Year Dec 28 - Jan 4 Wasdale Hall, Cumbria UK www.edwardcarpentercommunity.org.uk/ events/wasdale-new-year-2022 Winter Gathering Dec 28 - Jan 2 Saratoga Springs CA www.thebillys.org/events/category/gather ings/ Winter Meditation Jan 13 - 15 Mountain Retreat & gayspiritvisions.org Learning Center, Highlands NC Bear Your Soul: Winter Hibernation Jan 13 - 16 Easton Mountain, www.eastonmountain.org/ Greenwich NY Imbolc Gathering Jan 27 - Feb 5 Glastonbury, UK albionfaeries.org.uk Tropical Full Moon Gathering Feb 2 - 12 Koh Yao Yai, Thailand asianfaeries.com/ Foretry Camp Feb 10 - 21 Wolf Creek OR www.nomenus.org/calendar-2/ Winter Gay Spirit Camp: Mardi Gras Feb 17 - 20 Saratoga Springs CA www.eastonmountain.org/ Wholism School Rewilding Retreat Mar 15 - 19 Saratoga Springs CA wholism-school.mn.co/landing?space_ id=4316315 Northwest Dance Mar 16 - 19 Northwest US danceforallpeople.com/calendar/ (contact for location) Movement, Body & Intimacy Laboratory Mar 20 - 27 Valle del las Sensaciones, Spain hadasdelsol.wordpress.com Poly Men Who Love Men: Spring Retreat Mar 23 - 26 Easton Mountain, Greenwich NY www.eastonmountain.org/ Winter Gatherings In the autumn of 2024, RFD will be turning fifty years old and we’re seeking your input as we work to make selections of some of the best material to ap- pear in RFD’s pages in five decades. So we’re looking for people interested in being readers to go through a small selection of RFD issues to give input on the interesting articles, poems and artwork to grace RFD’s pages. Once selections are made we’ll chose a selection for inclusion in a collection into a book as a way of celebrating our golden anniversary. Most of RFD’s back issues are online for people to read directly to help in this endeavor and we can provide you with a list of libraries and archives with copies as well. If you are interested in being a reader – be in touch with Rosie – houseofdelicious@gmail.com. As usual we’d like to thank the individual communi- ties who offer places to gather, connect and heal. RFD uses a number of different sources for our calendar of gatherings but one of the more useful is www.radfae.org but we also search individual groups webpages for their latest events. If a com- munity you think should be included in our Annual Gathering Calendar which appears in our Spring issue, please be in touch – submissions@rfdmag.org You can also find these events listed on our Google Calendar of Gatherings which can be found on our main page – www.rfdmag.org. RFD is Turning Fifty in 2024 and We’re Looking For Your Help RFD 192 Winter 2022 5 "Lad Load" by Richard Vyse6 RFD 192 Fall 2022 The night sky lay shattered behind the bare branches. The clouds glowed with the light radiating from the city. The air was still and all that could be heard was the dull rumble of traffic on the great avenue. Diego found a path and followed it without knowing where he was going. The ground felt soft under his feet. The air smelled of decomposing foliage, a smell that brought to mind the memory of his grandmother planting flowers outside the house where she lived until her death. Diego shivered from time to time but he didn’t know if it was because he didn’t put on enough layers or because he was nervous. As a child he would have felt fear in a place like that, surrounded by the gloomy silhouettes of leafless trees. He had learned from fairy tales that it was in places like that where evil crea- tures lurked. Now he was barely able to feel fear and that saddened him. With the arrival of adulthood, his imagination had stiffened, making it difficult for him to make out faces of monsters from the medley of shadows. He was lost in those thoughts when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He stopped short, his body twitching unconsciously. A dozen meters away he saw the silhouette of an animal slipping through the trees. The fluffy tail and pointed ears gave it away. He only managed to see it for a few seconds before the fox melted into the darkness. He kept walking and the path turned into a paved road lined with streetlights. The light from the street lamps formed puddles on the wet ground. Diego tried his luck along that path but so far he hadn’t run into anyone, except for a cy- clist who he saw coming from afar thanks to the headlight powered by a dynamo. As the cyclist passed him, Diego was about to greet him, as he was accustomed to do when he went hiking in the mountains. This time, however, he said noth- ing and the cyclist disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. For a moment Diego wanted to go home but he kept wandering with only the trees for company. They were towering trees, many of them cen- turies old. He thought he recognized several of them although he did not know their names. He had always wanted to learn the names of trees and flowers, as well as the names of the constel- lations. He could have gone to the library and learned those names from books, but he would have preferred to have been taught them by someone when he was still a child and his sense of wonder was still intact. He didn’t understand why at school they taught him the names of en- tire dynasties of dead kings but no one bothered to make sure he was able to distinguish between an ash and a beech. Learning a name, on the other hand, could give a false sense of security, as if the mysteries that each one of those giants contained were revealed with the mere utterance of a word. Diego was beginning to suspect that he would never find the place they had told him about when he saw a man come out of a path and fix him with a gaze that made him uncomfortable. The man was middle-aged with stubble and a baseball cap. He reminded Diego of a physical education teacher he had had in high school. Again he felt a shiver run down his spine. Put- ting his hands in the pockets of his coat, he lowered his eyes and walked down the path the man had come from. It didn’t take long for him to make out the silhouettes of other men in the shadows. Like him, they walked the path in silence. Further on, the trail formed a loop that could be fol- lowed in both directions, most of the men doing nothing but completing one loop after another. In the gloom of the park he could barely make out the appearance of those he passed, beyond their approximate height and build. Nobody said anything to anyone, nobody whistled or laughed. Each one roamed like a lone wolf, unsure whether he was going to end the night as prey or hunter. The silence in which this ritual took place began to feel oppressive and he wanted to scream. To calm himself, he touched the bark of one of the trees and traced the outline of one of its knots with the tips of his fingers. He felt discouraged and did not want to walk anymore. He stood leaning against the trunk of that tree with his hands resting on the bark, trying in vain to convince himself that he did not regret that he had come. He wished that his Night at the Park by Luna RFD 192 Winter 2022 7 arms would grow feathers and that, with his new wings, he could fly away. He would rise above the trees, above the park, and, heading south, leave the city behind in search of a forest where spring had already arrived. Someone stepped off the path and leaned against the tree next to him. For a few moments there was a tense silence between them. Diego looked at him and felt that the other did the same, although in the darkness that surrounded them it was difficult to be sure. The stranger lit a cigarette and by the light of that fire Diego could see that it was a boy his age with pleasant features. The boy took two puffs and offered him the cigarette. Although Diego didn’t smoke, he accepted the offer and felt an electric current of excitement when his fingers touched the stranger’s. Without saying a word, the boy took him by the hand and led him away from the path. They walked for a minute and then the boy turned around and kissed him. His tongue still had the bitter aftertaste of tobacco, but any unpleasant sensations dissolved in the moist warmth of those full lips press- ing against his. Their mouths parted and the boy led him further to a small clearing in the trees. There he kissed him again as he unbut- toned his jeans. Then, pulling gently on Diego’s arms, he brought him to his knees and offered him his sex. Diego did not resist and gave himself care- fully to the task of giving pleasure to his lover. The boy ran his fingers through Diego’s soft hair and, from time to time, he grabbed a few locks and pulled his head. Soon after, the boy began to moan and pull harder. As he got down on his knees, Diego had closed his eyes and when he finally opened them he saw the gleam of eyes watching him through the trees. They were small, bright eyes suspended in the dark. That vision scared him but he was unable to stop and he let the stranger continue to enjoy his mouth. His gaze, however, no longer left those eyes. The initial shock turned into terror when he realized that the yellow eyes were moving towards them. Diego pulled away forcefully. “What the hell are you doing?” the boy roared, unable to contain his anger. “Look!” Diego yelled pointing at the luminous eyes. The boy finally saw them and for a moment he was also afraid. He hastily buttoned up his jeans. Diego was still kneeling on the ground. The figure stepped out of the shadows and into the clearing where it became visible to both of them. What was staring at them was a young doe. The animal was limping and half its head was covered in blood. “What happened to her?” asked Diego alarmed. “She must have been hit by a car,” replied the boy. “Let’s get out of here.” The boy turned and walked a few steps away. “Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder. Diego didn’t answer and the boy left. The doe was breath- ing heavily. She came close to Diego and col- lapsed on the ground. Her eyes didn’t leave his. For a few moments they both remained silent, without moving. Diego hesitantly reached out a hand and caressed her snout. Her breath felt hot and ragged from the effort of staying alive. Diego then sat down next to her and put the doe’s head on his lap. Bloodstains blossomed like roses on the fabric of his shirt. “Forgive me” was all he could think to say. Nobody said anything to anyone, nobody whistled or laughed. Each one roamed like a lone wolf, unsure whether he was going to end the night as prey or hunter. The silence in which this ritual took place began to feel oppressive and he wanted to scream. To calm himself, he touched the bark of one of the trees and traced the outline of one of its knots with the tips of his fingers.Next >