Making dinner
with my lover
while NPR covers
gay marriage hearings
in the Supreme Court,
Inconceivable
in my boyhood
when nothing
was covered, or
everything
was covered, hearing
confined to mother’s words
warning of dirty
old men after little boys
in filthy public restrooms.
There will be no Easter
miracle, I’m sure,
I’ll not live to see
marriage in Michigan
where we cut our vegetables,
but simply standing
here with him,
this simple meal we make
is empty tomb enough
for that gay boy in me.
with my lover
while NPR covers
gay marriage hearings
in the Supreme Court,
Inconceivable
in my boyhood
when nothing
was covered, or
everything
was covered, hearing
confined to mother’s words
warning of dirty
old men after little boys
in filthy public restrooms.
There will be no Easter
miracle, I’m sure,
I’ll not live to see
marriage in Michigan
where we cut our vegetables,
but simply standing
here with him,
this simple meal we make
is empty tomb enough
for that gay boy in me.
James M. Croteau lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan with his partner of 28 years, Darryl, and their two Labrador retrievers. Jim grew up gay and Catholic in the southern United States. He recently had his first poem accepted for publication in Hoot: a Postcard review of {mini} poetry and prose.
