I’m from a town where the boys battle
in the bands and the girls learn to play
guitar in private.
A town where you covered your eyes
in smoke and mom drove you to the boys’
shows and later they would feed you
Mike’s Hard and snap your bra
and you’d call that your music.
They know you can’t sing
With your mouth full.
I’m from a town where it’s still cool
to say, I’m not like the other girls.
Where I wasn’t.
I’m from a town where the high school
went from 7th through 12th grade.
Where the freshmen were so small
they could fit in lockers. Where the lockers were closets.
Where there was just one out, gay kid in the whole school
and his name was Gay Will. A town where fag was screamed
In the hallway every time
someone dropped their books,
or tripped, or got an A+.
I’m from a town where girls kissed girls,
but only thin ones, only the blonde ones,
only as foreplay, only when boys snapped
their fingers and said, now.
Where the hearts were as hard as the hair gel.
A town where I had no model,
no option, just a force-fed Cupid.
Where, for years, I swore the landfill
was a mountain and that she was a girl
I just really admired. A town where I forgot the boys
were there for a moment, vulturing around us
while we kissed. Where she didn’t
even look at me after,
just winked at them at laughed
A town where that didn’t hurt.
Where it couldn’t.
Leave a Reply