Grindr Debuts Official In-House Poet

No, seriously. His name is Max Wallis and he announced his debut in a Guardian column:

Poetry and sex have a long and venerable history, one often being used in the service of setting up the other. Catullus kicked things off, and Lord Byron, Sharon Olds and Carol Ann Duffy, among others, have run with the ball since. The work of those poets is perhaps best thought of as the context for what I am doing now.

Starting next week, I will be the gay social networking app Grindr’s first poet in residence, making a video poem each month to be flashed in the app and also on its new platform, Into. They will be directed by Ashley Joiner, whose documentary Pride? premieres at the BFI’s LGBT film festival in March.

The poems play on the essential themes of the app – relationships, our increasingly unsympathetic world and quite a lot of sex (topics that have been the subject of my last two books – Modern Love and Everything Everything). Each video threads into the next, telling a larger story about what is to be gay now (although I thought it best not to limit myself to what it means to be gay and on Grindr now – as that would mean a lot of requests to “send more pics” and any number of unsolicited anatomical images).

Shall I compare thee to a summer three-way? Let’s hear your Grindr poem.

  • Do Something Nice

    Books are awfully decorative.

  • Rex

    Violets are blue
    Roses are red
    Who’s in the mood
    For some mind blowing head?

  • Ragnar Lothbrok

    I’m a gem
    don’t be a fem

    I’m hot
    don’t be a bot

    under a certain age is best
    do me now and then we rest

    is best to shave your ball
    but don’t be too short or too tall

  • CanuckDon

    It’s a well known one but…..
    “Nothing can be finer
    than to do a sixty-niner
    in the morning”

  • Boreal

    Homocon Sonnet:
    No fats , no fems
    No scat only gents
    You host or I’ll be a ghost
    Tell my wife and I’ll lose my double life.

  • coram nobis

    There once was a youth from Darjeeling
    Who danced with such exquisite feeling
    That the only sound
    Heard for miles around
    Was of fly buttons hitting the ceiling

  • JoeMyGod

    Top9 planned it all in advance
    This time he’d leave nothing to chance
    He packed handcuffs and rope
    But he should have packed soap
    His trick, you see, was from France

    • hudson11

      lol, thats not really fair. Have you ready David Sedaris’s essay on being in the Paris Metro in the heat of summer?

      • Lars Littlefield

        Husbear1: Is this shirt clean enough to wear again?
        Husbear 2: Yeah, if you’re French.

        • hudson11

          I’ve been to France in the summer, nary a whiff.

          • Lars Littlefield

            Have you been crammed into a Metro car at noon when the temperature is about 38 C and the air conditioning is actually working? I can attest for a fact that all of my friends in France (and I know a bunch) change clothes frequently during the day, but don’t wash their clothes regularly, letting them “air out” between several wearings. It has to dow with so many not haivng a washer and dryer in the tiny apartments. 😛

    • greenmanTN

      Left in a crack in the wall of an MA inn. (By me)

      There once was a couple from Texas
      Comprising only one one of the sexes
      Tomorrow they go
      to Salem, you know
      Hopefully avoiding all trouble and hexes.

  • bkmn

    Roses are red,
    Violets are blue,
    If you are a conservative

  • Rex

    There once was a man named Mack.
    Who did his best work in the sack.
    With 10,000 served,
    He was quite the perv.
    And never got off of his back.

  • That_Looks_Delicious

    There was a young man from Nantucket

    Y’all know the rest.

  • HZ81

    No blacks or Asians.

    But I love raisins!

    (okay, first cup of coffee. give me a break!)

    • liondon#iamnotatraitor

      Logcabin version: no fats , no Dems

      • HZ81


  • Ernest Endevor

    Beauty’s truth. Truth Beauty.
    Gabriel’s got an awesome booty.

  • vorpal

    I’m here looking just for a friend
    And not to fill my rear end.
    I swear I’m versatile at that
    At least for four lines of chat
    My pic’s from 2004
    But I only weigh 40 lbs more
    And I’ve turned 39
    For the 11th time.

  • crewman

    If your face is orange and your hair is fake
    alternative facts may be great
    to find the ideal mate

  • Pollos Hermanos

    A Grindr Haiku…..ahem.

    Hook up on his way to me
    Does not match photo

    • another_steve

      At my door he shows
      No couth, no grace, no nothing.
      Go away! I scream.

    • HanyBaal

      We are apes with apps
      For ogling – sadly distant –
      swollen genitals.

  • Sam_Handwich

    Whose wood this is i think i know.

    • CanuckDon

      Been there done that
      No go…no blow

  • Tawreos

    Email from hotness
    perfection personified
    Sadly all botness

  • Poetry was always about sex, but sometimes you have to read past the metaphors. You didn’t think all those Heine poems were really about flowers, did you?

    • wineflask

      It’s not just Heine, also Goethe celebrated rape by talking about flowers.

      • Citation? I’ve read (and sung) quite a bit of Goethe and I must have missed his celebration of rape. /s


      Auden cared naught for metaphors…..

      Indwelling excitements swelled at delights to come
      As I descended and ascended those thick distended walls.
      I grasped his root between left forefinger and thumb
      And with my right hand tickled his heavy voluminous balls.

      I plunged with a rhythmical lunge steady and slow,
      And at every stroke made a corkscrew roll with my tongue.
      His soul reeled in the feeling. He whimpered “Oh!”
      As I tongued and squeezed and rolled and tickled and swung.

      Then I pressed on the spot where the groin is joined to the cock,
      Slipped a finger into his arse and massaged him from inside.
      The secret sluices of his juices began to unlock.
      He melted into what he felt. “O Jesus!” he cried.

      Waves of immeasurable pleasures mounted his member in quick
      Spasms. I lay still in the notch of his crotch inhaling his sweat.
      His ring convulsed round my finger. Into me, rich and thick,
      His hot spunk spouted in gouts, spurted in jet after jet.

      That’s just the end of it…

      The Platonic Blow
      W. H. Auden

      Edit: This was exposed as his, he denied it.

      • greenman47

        I have a copy of this poem published by his friends in a limited edition during his lifetime to insure that it enters his canon.

  • Natty Enquirer

    There was a young man of Back Bay,
    Who thought syphilis just went away,
    And felt that a chancre,
    Was merely a canker,
    Acquired in lascivious play.

  • PickyPecker

    I’ve got the goods
    And I’m a stayer
    Be HWP
    And not a player.

  • stuckinthewoods

    Shall I compare thee to a summer’s lay?
    Thou art more snuggly and more into it.
    Rough trade, far more than darling buds today,
    who disappear without a second date.

  • Rex

    Based on my first Grindr experience.

    He said I was hot.
    I said to myself, why not?
    I sucked on his cock.
    And then I got blocked.
    Welcome to Grindr, I thought.

    • PoetKnowIt

      Hmmm…so two things pop to mind: (1) teeth, (2) failure to swallow.

  • Treant

    Rowing in Eden –
    Ah – the Sea!
    Might I but moor – tonight –
    In thee!

    (I like the classics).

  • Acronym Jim

    How much wood would a wood suck suck, if a wood suck could suck wood?

  • liondon#iamnotatraitor

    Family Guy version:

  • Dramphooey

    Thanks for the much needed laughs. Two root canals this morning.

  • CanuckDon

    You say you’re eight
    I say you ain’t
    You say you’re top
    I say that’s quaint
    You hike, you climb
    A regular jock
    Impress, promote
    dating app talk

  • david fairfield

    There one was a Trump Tower whore Whose pussy from grabbing was sore She looked for Trumps dinger, then said “use your finger” Which just left her wanting for more

  • greenman47

    “Does Size Matter?”

    How big is too big when it comes to a dick?

    Is it all about girth? Can a cock be too thick?

    Is it length of the shaft that enhances sensation,

    Increasing one’s pleasure with deep penetration?

    Oh, big ones are scenic and show well online

    But for practical matters six-inchers are fine.

    And anything larger than comfort allows

    May rupture the membrane it casually plows.

    And I think turgidity counts for a lot

    Determining hot from what surely is not

    For a large one that’s limp may not ever excite me

    Though smaller but hard ones might even all night me.

    It’s also the manner that dick is deployed

    Affecting the way an engorgement’s enjoyed;

    If the man that’s behind it is enthusiastic

    He’ll probably make an orgasm fantastic.

    I haven’t a clue if the way that I dangle

    Will hit the right spot and at just the right angle

    To give you the willies and cause you to moan…

    But I’ll do all I can with the one that I own.

    JPK 7/18/2009

    I have MANY MANY more I’d be glad to share. [email protected] if you’re interested.

  • dafs

    For sale.
    Butt plug.
    Never used.

    • HanyBaal


  • Lars Littlefield

    The fuck was fine
    Your penis devine
    But now you snore
    Let me show you the door

    • PoetKnowIt

      And the winner is…Lars Littlefileld, for his poem entitled “Even a Slut Needs a Good Night’s Sleep”.

      • Lars Littlefield

        Thank you. Thank you. And I accept this truly wonderful award from the American Poets Society in the name of all pre Stonewall gay poets who labored for centuries on their knees at glory holes everywhere. (small tear forming in right eye) sniff

  • coram nobis

    Masterbeat Theater is made possible by the Nantucket School of Poetry, and viewers like you! Thank you!

  • Dejerrity Mycron

    There once was a man from Nantucket
    Who kept his sex toys in a bucket
    One day when it rained
    The bucket was drained
    So he diddled himself with a trumpet

  • MT YVR

    In shallow lip turned toward smile,
    In endless variation, eyes light and dark and sparked and dull,
    While finger traces line at hip, wanders to neck by way of fantasies,
    Feather light, a persistent traveller
    Spreads hand to cradle head
    Pull, attraction, meets mouths and twists breath between us.
    My eternal him, the transmuting of us
    Ever spent, ever on the edge of spending,
    Rise and fall, in memory’s tangled sheets
    To meet, or deny, sweet lingering glances
    That speak of how this started
    How it will end
    In lip turned toward slight smile.

  • PoetKnowIt

    Hickory Dickory Dock,
    Fuck me with your cock.
    Make me moan, make me squirm.
    Gimme your bone, Gimme your sperm!

  • Secure

    I think that I shall never see
    A poem lovely as a tree.

    A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
    Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

    A tree that looks at God all day,
    And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

    A tree that may in Summer wear
    A nest of robins in her hair;

    Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
    Who intimately lives with rain.

    Poems are made by fools like me,
    But only God can make a tree.

    AND COCK!!!!

    • Maggie 4NoH8

      God didn’t make shit.

  • ElenorRigby

    Roses are red
    Thorns have a prick
    get down on your knees
    suck my fucking dick.

  • WretchedMouse

    I approve of this! As a poet I am glad to see poetry being used wherever it can to reach everyone! Now if the majority of Americans would be interested in poetry this would be even better.

  • LesbianTippingHabits

    A haiku for The Washington Blade:

    Scat queen at Nordstrom

    Lesbian tipping habits

    Bring back Bitch Session!

  • e jerry powell

    Hmmm. Grinder Poetry Slam. With Grindr Slam Poetry.

    So much slamming.