by Kim Doyle
Lesbian, lispian, anti-Thisbe-ian lovers,
like no others. Loved their Mothers
in a peculiar tit lickin' way. That is to
say, with a fidelity that reflects ominously
on you and me, who can take ‘em or leave ‘em.
Prior poorly paisley gaylie lazy guys
kissed their fathers. It was a bother
with no tongue, they were well hung,
but all played on the other team.
What a scream; a narcissusian, nightmare dream.
Am I bein’ mean to make such reams
of mortifyin’ rhyme? The times are changin’,
marriages re-arrangin’ themselves. Let’s all bask
in a homoerotic sun that says at last, free, at last
free to be you and me.
Kim Doyle is on the other, other team. Just like having "stars on thars." What frees others frees him; a lesson from Civil Rights activity.
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