A poem I just wrote in the doctors office: Door He was tall, white and broad stretching ceiling to floor My bodyguard, my friend But I just called him Door On hot summer nights he kept the AC On nights I was mad he slammed when was thrown On days I didn’t like you he kept you from me On days that I loved you he kept us alone His front knew the man I wanted to be His back knew the man in all honesty He was safe and reliant, an introvert heartthrob He did what I want when I touched his knob I loved him to death he was solid and steep He kept noises out When I just needed sleep My perfect stand-up guy The answer to my prayer Till authorities were notified Of my gay love affair On a cold winter night They came for he and I Rams made for battery And crowbars that pry I awoke to the blast, the crunch and the slam The splintering hole they tore through my man They smashed him to pieces and aimed guns at my head They said “WHERE’S YOUR LOVER” “…he’s already dead.”
Posted on: Thu, 03 Jul 2014 22:52:27 +0000
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