For S/HIM, Ken
you were my buddy in cultural crossfire
we recognized the line btwn your homo my hetero
your white my brown
your tall my tiny
but we blurred it distinctly
conversation, cerebral flames over lukewarm ale,
showed us familiar and parallel,
enough so that we made the shadows of our selves
confuse
the concrete
as we meadered in thought, but plowed with words
dropping dirt, instigating seed, mouth-watering:
i loved that moment when the $2 drafts ignited
us and we dived into a bed of flitting simmer,
hoisted to conceptual heights our excited and uplifted eyebrows
tried to scale.
i will look for you, today/tomorrow, walking the pavement on the Drag,
through the #1 Metro bus window, sullied with a scum i’m
not convinced isn’t my own weeping mixed with
stains of city prayer.
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