Terrible iron curtain years, don’t know how I survived.
Thought of running away, go to California, my brother-in-law
Oliver did that, got a job selling clothes in LA.
Slept in my disgusting bed as my father called it, my dirty
mags on a shelf in the closet.
Had to put toilet paper in my underwear to staunch the drip,
one day stringing out of my gym trunks, thank God no one saw.
What was his name who tormented me? Larry Bewley, big blond
kid I fantasized about slugging in the jaw.
Football player could whup me with a finger, but how could
he publicly murder me for slugging him? Beneath his dignity, I was safe.
What the hell?
Walks I took down west of Colo Blvd, why I never had the
energy to walk to Cherry Creek I don't know.
Like I never had the stamina to write more than about eight
lines of verse at a time, stoned late at night, what a wimp I was!
Whatever. I was a serious young man.
But I found out I talked like a faggot, I always knew my
father did.
Some fucking faggot.
So I guess I changed my speech, or I thought I had, George
H. W. talks like a combination of John Wayne and Mr. Rodgers, I didn't fool
anybody but myself.
So, terrorized into gender conformity.
Fooled for fifty years.
Fuckin-a.
And I didn't go to Vietnam, a miracle for me, what a fairy I
would have turned out to be there!
And who would punish me? sent down holes in the ground to
scout for booby-trappers, I drill my access hole, I stand my look-out.
In here I'm a beautiful animal, but adored by myself alone,
who knows how I'm regarded by others? by women I rule out men.
This was from early and not hard for me because I do love girls, especially myself as a girl, it turns out.
I have to add silly qualifiers, it turns out I thought I
was.
I was never hot for Larry Bewley, I know that.
Took my driver's training from some guy who knew Larry,
admired him, and kept talking about him between encouraging interjections:
"There you go, you just committed a traffic violation," "Oh-oh,
you just hit a pedestrian."
Fairy faggot.
I had a gay roommate in college who was not attracted to me.
We were with one another like two soldiers in a foxhole,
sleeping separate, me in my bed he in his sleeping bag.
A very Spartan lad, didn't like sweets, if I'd shown myself
to him in my true slutty colors he probably would have been disgusted, I never
thought of trying it till now.
I had several more roommates, including Eldon, an
ethically-minded psychology major with false teeth.
Eldon wanted to get married and was afraid he was just
turning into a sugar daddy.
Eldon did get married, to a girl who, he said, smelled like
the first girl he ever fucked.
She wasn't maximally his type, he frankly admitted, but she
was the one provided to be his wedded wife.
