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so you don’t hiccup and choke

No sir I ain’t never let go and got high like you
Got HIV before you knew what it was
in the back stalls of Heaven
Dancing as the disco ball blinded you
from the bedsores and false alarms
ringing positively in your ears through broken prophylactics
and bigger
broken promises
(should’ve just jacked off instead but left
your lube at home with your third live-in boyfriend)

No sir I never wrote those poems
because I never got initiated into the cult of queerness through
those halfhearted handjobs handed over like currency
Coming out instead in middle age muddling along with a wife
and kids like I was fucking supposed to, not
fucking with the neighbor next door
(though I’ll admit to staring as the sweat rolled off his shirtless
chest while he mowed)

No sir I just made a mistake that’s all
Taking for granted the Good Book and giving a damn
about how I was damned by wanting
to experience the ecstasy that came along with coming
side by side with fellow countrymen
and not in a woman that slicks herself and sucks me in
all the wrong ways

No sir so I’ll just watch the other side of the porno and
catch it in my fisted up tissue and call it a night
Feeling queer in a community of it with
no one to hear my No sirs yes sirs as I’m losing my mind

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