comic falls

Two friends walking, talking, heading to get their mail. Down in to the basement and past the mini-gym. One girl strapped into a machine, working her hamstrings. The shorter, single friend runs into the column and falls on her ass. The other friend's guffaws underscore the chorus of Areyouokays from the gym denizens. Looking directly at the girl with a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. My mom told me that staring was rude; she never said it was dangerous. I think I'm going to have a bump here tomorrow." She would. Would she have the girl's number though?

I have a propensity for nearly running into things when I'm inadvertently staring at someone.

unending asking

question:
why can't you just ...
as if attraction
could be controlled
into a simple
selection of the "right"
path
the one that makes
them more comfortable
explain with kindness
frustration and anger
fester
not the person
but the system
denies legitimacy
laughs at attempts
to stand on equal footing
those fitting the
correct mold

Wanting the world to catch up. Realizing I need to take more time to think when I'm asked a question. It is not necessarily my job to explain or explain right away.

clues

start the contest at the top of the hour
placed bets frozen, waiting
every eye upon the stage
lady, you can do it
lady, you can win
almost there
taste the victory
right out of, of reach
it wants you, needs you, calls you
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Happy 2nd Monthly Big Gay Spelling Bee! My spelling name is in the piece. Do you know what it is?

someday

I'm going to go to Rome. While there, I'm going to meet a beautiful, intelligent Brazilian. We will hit it off right away and be joined at the hip, wink wink, for the rest of the trip. There will be tears and heartbreak when we say goodbye. We will both think that this is it. That we'll be lucky a thousand times over if we ever find what we had with each other. But it's not over. We won't be able to resist each other. We'll maintain a long distance relationship for a few months. I'll hop a plane to see her on a whim. She'll return with me. We'll be in disgusting, domestic bliss until I graduate. With my degree in hand, I will land a job in Brazil. She will have made me fluent in both Portuguese and Spanish by then. I will be very successful at my job. Her dancing and acting career will take off. She'll help me get my novel published. After five years, we'll relocate to New York. The city will have changed. We will have changed. But this is where we belong. And where we'll stay.

That's a helluva plan.

Of course it is. Step one now, book the ticket to Italy.

Dreams! Aspirations! Hopes! Goals! They are good.

a joke

She whispered, "Do you believe me?" A joke was made and regretted. Her eyes grew sad in the middle of her laughter. Both wished to take back the confession, the question, the joke. It hung in the air more potent than her aging dog's farts. The infection could stop and the poison reversed. The joker feared weakness and could not release the apology clogging her airways. She filled the wine glasses and looked as honest as she could muster. "Yes. I believe you." The eyes grew confused. What was believable? She wanted to let go of the self-doubt and hatred, but it was impossible in the face of this sarcasm. The rest of dinner would be just another exercise in self-control. And she had had such high hopes.

People say fucked up things (myself included). I'm trying to learn to be brave enough to ask for explanation. If only I could read minds...

in-your-end-o

how gay is that
waving his arms in the air
madonna replaced by britney
kicking his feet
grabbing his crotch
how's that foot long?!
six inches just
don't satisfy
I get to eight
and decide to just take the last two
Four.
What?
Math is hard.
Yeah, girl.
he laughs to fill the room
arms wave and spirit fingers move on

The inches we were talking about when this poem was inspired were a Subway sandwich. It was still really gay, though.