Sign in

A California writer/photographer whose dreams are more vivid than his waking life. Poetry, Humor, Sexuality, and Short Stories.


Photo by Lukas on

“Can you get me some rotisserie chicken around the corner?” my mother pleaded.

“Mom, you don’t have to beg. You know I’ll get it for you.”

“But you always seem like it’s such a nuisance?”

“It’s just that we always eat the same chicken from Boston Market, touched by the little hands of those teenagers with sailor caps. I know they wear plastic gloves, but it skeeves me out.”

Every Sunday when my father was alive, he took my mom around the corner for some chicken, mashed with brown gravy, and either buttered corn or macaroni and cheese as the…

Photo by Keith Luke on Unsplash

Being homeless
is nothing new for me
I have red skin
and long black hair
I am native to this land
I know what it is to be without

I sit on a low stone wall
in front of the free library
with friends and acquaintances
who are equally as poor
and dispossessed

When I am lonely,
I blow a wooden flute
like a bird’s song,
calling the flying spirits
of my ancestors

I long for my people,
my people to be free,
to drink the sacred water,
walk proudly on the Great Plains,
and live where the spirit manifests itself
for all who…


Photo by PublicDomainPictures on Pixabay

I beg you, sweet sadist
to explore my perversion
I want to play
with your imagination
Turn my desire
into your wine,
my lust into burning loins

You are the top
I am the bottom
It’s okay, don’t be afraid
It’s only make-believe
I wouldn’t let you do these things
without my consent

Bite me, spank me,
give me an endorphin rush
Tickle my thighs with a crow’s feather
I’ll lick your feet
if you ride me like a horse

Prune my rose petal
Snip my cheery buds
Plunge your soul
deep within my ecstasy
Hold onto the reins
and ride me hard and fast…


Photo by Ozan Safak on Unsplash

Old men like me like old things. We can wear the same Florsheim ankle boots for years. We will only change our underwear if somebody complains. We like old baseball players and old black and white movies with Robert Mitchum and Edward G. Robinson. We like vintage Fords and Chryslers with a woodgrain dash. Cars that are sturdy and have big fins coming out of their ass.

We like eating at diners where they have Early Bird Specials, where a bunch of old geezers take their antacids with their clam chowder and put their eye drops in before they get…

Photo by Tessa Rampersad on Unsplash

Two old friends were walking along a D.C. park on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. They stopped for a while, found a bench, and had their lunch.

“I’m impressed,” said Ray, taking a bite from a cheese sandwich. “You seem so unperturbed by that stranger across the way giving us the evil eye.”

“No big deal,” said Dylan, chewing on an apple. “My Grandma taught me a trick when I was young. She said that when anyone gives you the stinky eye, as she called it, never look back. …

The photo was taken in Palm Springs, CA by author, Mark Tulin.

Don’t worry. I don’t have a fetish for manikins. They perk my curiosity. Standing out from the crowd, even though they aren’t living. Some are impressive dressers, while others seem to be drama queens. Take the one above. Before the pandemic, I came home from a road trip in San Antonio when I decided to have lunch in Palm Springs. I pulled over to the side of the road when I saw this manikin showing a lot of leg with a pink dogface. Impressive. …

Mark Tulin

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store