it's 'pride parade,' but,
i go to the ashamed parade;
it's held the first rainy night
in the shrubbery;
no girls allowed.
i'm old school. my ex's died ordinary deaths:
muggings, lynchings, suicide... i like
the days before 'pride sponsered by budweiser,'
before, 'how to tell if your two-year old is gay'
and, "here comes the groom". doom.
my mother and father were married -- talk about an elusive
childhood: my mom would beat the shit out of me,
and dad would sit there. my step dad... this place holder
before the pod people came back for me.
it's about being free in my body, in my mind -- free of anyone
telling me how.
i walk down the street, dialecting out of the last
humiliating meeting. into that free mind space that walks over rainbows;
making a script: i'm in the house of corridors:
people speaking and re-speaking...
i'm never them. maybe, if danny's parents hadn't
come home before he kissed me -- us in eleventh grade.
maybe if i were superman, jump off the moon.
the river roils and escapades;
easy is the twilight; there's the moon,
it doesn't care if i kiss or dare. do or cry.
i'm not gonna marry danny;
i respect him and love him...
it's not a sex thing or ring thing, it's a queer thing.
stuff that up your rainbow LGBTUVQRXSY, gen null.