Among the 100 “”fuck you”s I yelled today
I am shamed to say almost 90 of them were hate
I am ashamed to hate because that causes death
So much death
But, how do you respond then?
Your brethren lie in blood, tears and shit
Wishing for some sort of reprieve from this slaughter
That people have directed at them for centuries
You can turn 10 “fuck you”s to poetry
To verses recited at the top of your voice in front of
A group of people who would molest you
If only they had the chance
You recite your words and make them into thinkers maybe
You turn about 50 “fuck you”s to tragedies
Songs and movies written over the backdrop of love
And loss, Rock Hudson and bitterness
The image of Schyuler and moonlit sidewalks
At the heart of a beat stricken Castro
The 20 “fuck you”s are about caring
About hand in hand after the long night
Talks about eternity and how he would survive
One more shooting, ten more still
Because he hasn’t told his story yet
The last 10 are problematic though
I guess they are reserved for the ones we hate so
To turn our hatred into speeches for knowledge
Into standing up at the roaring opposition
And telling them
“We are here for love’s sake
And my lover lies dying, God knows we do not
Have a lot of shot. But, remember how you love your wife
I love him the same, with the same intensity.
And I know you think it is wrong, that our sex
Is more important than our feelings
But, can’t you see? In these tears we don’t just hide
Our yearnings for a fucking penis
Can’t you just see a little more through praying
That we’re fucking perverse only in our bedrooms
But, even without that, we are so much more”


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