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 Nov 2014 Audrey
Joe Bradley
I
Little bear

My Red Indian girl
approaches with
Sun waves behind her.
Rays broken on
wheat sheaf, brown
pollen flies, dither,
vulture on cut poppy heads.

Hands gently brush
bull rush, torches
of an ancient fire
That burns, that burns
the curling hearts of ferns.

‘I want to meet you there
My love,
Who stares
at the sky
like a
Sun flower.'


II

Scorched earth

The holy fire
that licks from your
Irish mouth. The
Catholic words,
that spill from your
holy spirit.
Hang in the air
like ragged linen
on a ***** child.

‘My empty boy,
Let me slip my hands
Under your gas mask
And kiss the chlorine from your mouth,’


III

We are the Sun Warriors

when we're together.

strung out,
drugged up,
lovers of light,
lovers of the summer
Drought and bubble mud.

‘I want, I want
our stitched up hearts.
And when we’re gone, please let us lie
In a heathen space
and find our heaven in the sky.’


IV

The Sun

That ****** spot,
Blinks.
Gods eye though
screamed at
gives no reply.    

That ****** spot
blinks
in a empty sky
I opened my heart to god
and heard you reply.
I wish we lived in a world
where we were bombarded with messages of hope
that encourage us to grow

instead of being bombarded with messages of futility
that our worth lies in meaningless products
and how and what we consume
we are told to conform

I am more than my material possessions
and how much I get on my paycheck
I tend to get stares... Looks... The occasional "are you gay?" With a quizzical look of disgust.
Well, to answer your question, no, I am not gay.
In a society built around judgment and stilted above common sense,
Being gay would mean that I'd have to find women utterly disgusting, flick my wrists, speak with funny and awkward inflections, right?
Do you think I speak with funny and awkward inflections?
Good! Because I'm so not gay.
Being gay would mean that I love to shop, well I hate it!
My fashion sense does not exceed that of a box of colorful crayola crayons melting away in the blistering Las Vegas sun because you see, I don't live in San Francisco, or New York,
or anywhere "gay" people live.
I am not gay.
Being gay would mean that I am immoral but I can assure you, moralistically speaking, that morals are what keep me routinely from listening to Lady Gaga, who I've heard, despite her catholic upbringing, is a devout devil worshiper and I sure as hell don't worship Satan!
Oh no, I am not gay.
My father once told me, in his manliest tone that if I ever became sweet
or my tank profusely filled with sugar
that he'd disown me and rid me of his home.
However last time I checked,
I don't have a tank
and one lick of my tanned brown skin would reveal that I am in fact quite salty!
Salty, as defined by Urban Dictionary, means to be ******.
Bitter. Angry.
Well father, there aint nothing sweet about my wrath.
I'm infuriated.
I'm angry not because I'm not able to fulfill the holistic criterion society has built in order to be gay,
No, I am more upset that there is actually a set of rules dictating whether or not someone is gay.
Now listen to me when I tell you,
I am not gay
I am not gay because I have yet to inject myself of substances with an unsterile needle for all purposes of getting high.
No, I have yet to discover my last ****** partner was diagnosed with *** and that I may very well have the virus.
No, I have yet to interiorly decorate my bedroom with the warm crimson fluid that is my blood because some punk at school thought it was cute to label me a queer.
I have yet to be gay because being gay in today's society means I am reckless. I am promiscuous. I am a *******.
Well, guess what society,
I am not gay.
I am, in fact, a man, who is not your personal show dog for your fashion approval that you can tote around in some cute Gucci bag.
I am a man, who can still appreciate the beautiful magnificence that is a curve when he sees one no matter the person's gender.
I am a man who, despite what you may be expecting,
is a man who, no matter how hard you try to box me in a confined image,
is a man who, will fight to freely be in love with who he wants to be in love with,
who is a man who is not gay
but a man who loves men.
I am not gay.
..
Totally gay.
 Nov 2014 Audrey
My Scarlet Amora
I want to take you on cute dates
Like in the indie movies
A picnic on the roof of a building
With Christmas lights and mason jars
I'll keep you warm against the night air
And I'll always protect you
The sun will begin to rise
And I won't watch
A sun rise is nothing compared to you
Another day with you is another blessing
I'll never forget that
And I'll never forget to tell you how much I love you
No matter how long we are together
I could make a movie just about your eyes
All we are missing is a flower crown
 Nov 2014 Audrey
My Scarlet Amora
You know that feeling when your jumping?
Your feet leave the ground
And for a second you're flying
Your breathe is quick
And your arms fly out
Searching for something to grab
That's what it's like to love you
That slight fear of landing too hard
Falling and not being able to get back up
But the feeling of being lifted is there
The feeling that you can kiss the sky
I guess that's what I'm trying to say is
I hope you catch me
 Nov 2014 Audrey
Love
Gay Christian
 Nov 2014 Audrey
Love
I'm done repressing my gayness
Because it's the "Christian" thing to do.
I will wear ******* rainbow ****** pasties
And march in a pride parade
If I please
And then go to church and praise Jesus
And God and the Holy Spirit
For making the way I am
And how I am
Because he made me perfect.
I am gay
I am Christian
I am proud to be both.
 Nov 2014 Audrey
ern kingham
"Gay"
 Nov 2014 Audrey
ern kingham
I remember the first time someone explained to me what the word gay meant.
We were in middle school
Playing on the swing set behind Stoy Elementary
"He’s so gay," she said
Bitter disgust poured out of her mouth with every syllable
I could not think as to why being happy could be such a horrible thing
And so I asked
My exact words being
“Whats so wrong with being happy?”
Now both my friends looked at me weird
“Don’t you know what gay means?”
“Doesn’t it mean to be happy?”
“You’re such a little kid, gay does not mean happy. Gay is a boy who likes another boy”
I stood there wondering why it mattered so much that a boy liked another boy;
why it was such a distasteful thing.
And why it meant gay couldn’t still mean happy.
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