Porn by Mike Wheatley

They don’t need magazines.
No stuck together pages
with white adhesive,
with home-made glue.
All they need are six fingers,
one to hunt and five to hold.

These thirteen year olds in blackened rooms;
one eye on the door,
one eye on the screen,
one eye the cause of it all.

Who taught them the birds and the bees?
This generation of porn?
A woman thrice their age, taking it
every which way from the comfort
of the phone in their pocket.

Scruffy hair, watering eyes, down on her knees.

Sex. Unrecognisable sex.
The false moans of the virtual world,
the screams of the real.

It’s not like in your movies.
You’re not hung,
and she won’t wear that,
do that,
be tied to that,
be hit with that,
want that.

So ask yourself,
just what were you expecting?

..

Biography: 
Mike Wheatley is a student currently studying Creative and Professional Writing and English Literature BA (Hons) at the University of Worcester; he is in the process of finding his voice as a poet having discovered a passion for it during the first year of his degree.

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