I wonder if Oscar Wilde
was ever afraid to show
his affection, or if he worried
too that he might be
followed to an alley and
beaten up for being too queer.
Walt Whitman seemed
to be quite open about
his love of men; did he
look over his shoulder at night?
Kit Marlowe was a raging
homo; did ever come onto
the wrong dude,
and end up with a split lip
and a black eye?
If being a poet
neutralises that awful,
sinful faggotry,
maybe I should publish.
Next time a homophobe
confronts me, I'll simply
hand him my big gay
poetry book.
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Comments
--
I did not believe myself to have been born to follow that pursuit of lost illusions and other nonsenses.
--
Now you wonder, "Well is this it?"
--
I did not believe myself to have been born to follow that pursuit of lost illusions and other nonsenses.
--
Now you wonder, "Well is this it?"
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