Tim’m T. West © 2008, Red Dirt Publishing

ya’ll heteros kill me
you the identity
not even an identity
so normative
you need no nomenclature
and I’m no hater
just an illuminator of truth
and the truth is
ya’ll killin me!

walking around all day
smiling and hugged up
public displays of affection
without hateration
without consideration
for what hood you in
or who you gonna offend
for just being you

you hold hands and kiss without care
of how many people will stare
offer prayer
in disgust
so grossed out
they take to ridicule of gents with gents
protect the kids
and their pre-adolescent innocence
frustrated common sense

but truth is
ya’ll needed us
these freakish ways
of lesbian and gays
the spectacle of
bisexuals
marching around
shameless
and being gender benders
transgender
pregnant men
no adam and steve
you plead
Nigga please!
see, You need us
you were just….well…..
people
before we came along
plain people who could do no wrong
so we make life more exciting for ya
you can gloat about ya favorite scapegoat
the liberal of you
get to feel proud
it’s spoken, “I have a gay friend”
we ain’t trying to be ya token
but sure, I prefer these friendly allies to those
hypocritical believers in churches
acting like they hate us
when the truth is
they need us, desperately
cuz without our sinful ways
their sins would be….well….”gay”

ya’ll heteros kill me
you break no rules
you get compliments
for being cute together
picnic baskets in sunny weather
out in broad daylight
we get reduced to bedroom closets
park bushes and cum deposits
that render nothing but strange fruit
in the garden of good evil
heavy breathing
in dark cities
we are forced to cum to
for safety
ya’ll heterosexuals lazy
don’t even give thought to parenting
just check that little test and…
smile at your boo
and say
it’s blue!
or whatever color shows the evidence
of your copulation
we spend years trying to adopt
in states that illegalize our sodomy
deem us a parental catastrophe
so don’t talk to me
about putting my sexuality in ya face
your heteronormative oblivion is the disgrace
get outta my face
ya’ll
killin’
me
really!
i’m ain’t trying to be silly.

users!
you needed us
our unorthodox ways
of appropriating the word gay
so you couldn’t be happy no mo
without shame
scared to wear jeans too tight
or dance under disco balls at night
life is just so ….. very …. difficult for you
trying to ignore those of us
dying to be true
but I honor the reality
that heteros gave birth to me
so ya’ll aiight………
sometimes
and sometimes
i’m not even angry
about how you can walk in church
proud to be heterosexual
praying preachers talk about the gays
so they don’t have to address
your evil ways…

still despite all the ways
ya’ll make me sick
i’m glad you exist
will not stoop to tit for tat
or stripping you of your humanity
the insanity that makes our love
some kind of calamity
yeah….some of ya’ll okay
cuz for all the ways
this discriminatin’ nation makes me wanna hate
even I gotta try to admit:

some of my best friends are straight!

brothers and sisters,

they suckle, spank, pamper, provide security blankets, spoon feed,
generate Gerber, love little ones, befriend them when they get big,
hug well, become brilliant, protect, stir cereal substances for
sustenance: oatmeal, grits, malt-o-meal… the cold crunchy stuff that
belong in boxes, be calm, be not-so-calm when people mistreat they
children, be advocates, be fair and not so righteous that they ain’t
human no more…

they tickle, are switch hitters (when necessary), discipline, have
high expectations, cry when no one’s watching, watch over, forgive,
protest, trust God, get hurt to get over, pray better, know when
you’re lying about feeling okay, tempt tomorrows, yearn for
yesterdays, offer no hierarchy of hugs, emanate equality, teach, type,
produce the poetry that emerge out of their beloved’s fingers…words
written in their memories some time ago…if failing to ink paper…

they (grandma) Ellen (and sweet like fried pies or popcorn balls)
and they (moms) Irma-Pearl
they (Auntee) Eldora
and they (Aunt) Everlean
they children go where I Cindy (cousin)
and they Toy (like everyday is Christmas) (sister)
they Talisha (sis) loving others as if her own, cuz they are…
and they women who will come to be women who mother
in all the ways that can happen

they be women I and we love when recession stresses pocketbooks and we
fail to fabricate finances or fees for flowers.

but here…in the spaces where words always already feel wholes…
there are things more precious than pretty products… like
remembering enough to say thank you to someone whom without…

you’d have no words at all.

by: me (Tim’m) and us, and the ones to come.