(for Nic A. and Sam)
Call Me A Homo
Rubber-riot-bullets from the gun barrel mouths of
Sexually-frustrated mooks and tourists
Flat-headed people who live in flat, gray worlds
Crumpled maps stained with cheap alcohol and tweak-fueled, blue-balled up anger
Towns torn by white picket faces
Even the roads a little more than crooked
Golden gates slammed shut, chained up
And air-locked by a sloppy-drunk mall-cop
Call Me Fag
Derived from the word "faggot"
Faggot, a funeral pyre
Just like the ones lit in Salem to burn witches at the stake
When oceans were overridden
By semen sailing aboard phallus-crowned ships
Streaked with sea-spray and the blood of natives.
Call me a flaming fag
The Brits eventually adapted the word "fag" to mean "cigarette"
I need to light up. Got a match?
Wrap me in rainbows and burn my pants to ash
And with it, a system that keeps us trained and leashed
Inside a gentrified, gender-fied, dying forest mainframe
Of bathroom door sign silhouettes.
Do I sound angry fire?
Should I feel sorry for you for wanting to burn me?
I could flip you the bird, call you an ignorant asshole and let you punch me in the nose
But the Emperor who Wears No Clothes knows
That black n white are not part of the rainbow spectrum.
Newborns explode into this world
Attached to umbilical cords that stretch back endlessly
Into a cancerous womb of a blood-spattered history of patriarchal brutality and stupidity
That not even the precision of brain surgeon scalpels could ever sever completely from this atrophying body
Call Me Queer
And pluck me like Lady Holiday's Strange Fruit hanging from a tree
Like Zykoln B and ovens burning pink triangles in National Socialist Germany
Like Jerry Falwell saying San Franciscans deserve to die of AIDS and burn in Hell
And the flocks upon flocks of sheep counting sheep
Praying that their folded-hoof dinner table graces and confessions
To a man who died on a cross over 2000 years ago
Will somehow absolve them of their cross-burning sins.
Sheep counting sheep asleep at the wheel
Too numb to wake from their vacuum-tube-TV-screen coprophagic orgies
Swallowing plate upon shit-plate
Of Bible-pounding Evangelical hate--whole.
Call Me A Homo
Because I'm human
I'm sorry if being human seems threatening to you
But I think you may still be a bit confused
About the words you choose to describe my friends, family, and I
When you call us gay, dykes, fags, queer
HIV-infected, diseased sons and sisters of Satan.
Believe me, we know you hate us.
You've made it more than clear that you don't believe in same-sex marriage
But don't mistake us.
Don't mistake the threads we wear
For the homoerotic skeletons unravelling in YOUR closet
Call Us Homos
And hate what you don't know
Call me homo because I am homo sapien,
A sucker for romantic semantics and stories of true love in all shapes and colors.
I'm sorry for you if you don't know what it's like to have love in your heart,
It must be a very lonely place where you are.
But know this:
Your words of hatred fuel a fire
That burn sticks n stones,
Carbonize flesh and bone into diamond powder,
And mangle language into a meaningless buzz
On the pyre of a four-letter word.