In Defense of Sissy Poets

In Defense of Sissy Poets

A bargirl asked me what I did for a living,  
"I write poems", I answered
She laughed and asked me if I was queer...
I punched her in the throat and watched,
As the air refused to go down her trachea

A book-stocker at my local "Mega-bookstore"
pushed my coffee over and breathed out the word "Fag"
as I examined a new version of Howl..  
I came behind him and smashed a fire extinguisher
against his head...I easily outran the mall security
and hid in a Victoria's Secret store

I softly sang Morrissey lyrics in the office
and was involuntarily informed by my Boss
that the singer was "Gay", the stapler made a weird
clicking sound as it bounced off his forehead
and clattered to the floor, his head made
a soft thud sound as it bounced against the cubicle wall

These actions would hold more meaning
if I was indeed gay, but the truth is,
I am just a plain old hetero...I hoot and
whistle at girls in bikinis..I oogle women
as they dance disaffected on dimly lit stages,
pondering the career path of a Hooters calendar girl..

It is not my fault, that I am so open minded..
I was raised by Women, nurtured by the nurturing gender...
conditioned by the fairer sex,
to learn with a pure, undiscriminating heart,
to overlook the chemical accident that determines
who we want to mate with

But the rest of the world did not get the email,
so they to learn tolerance the old fashioned way...
by getting a foreign object smashed into their faces...
evolution is a miracle that sometimes needs a helping hand...

Balled into a fist.....