Mitchell Metz


It ruined Christmas
when cousin Bob whispered
past a drumstick: Gomer Pyle is a fag.

I was too young to be a word
as big as incredulous,
and too proud to ask
what, exactly, a fag is.

Oh, I had my schoolboy suspicions!
Suspicions, in fact,
about anything involving sex

or Santa.  Still, had Bob been
as informative as definitive,
Gomer's fagdom
wouldn't have bugged me much.

I mean the idea of kissing a boy
was barely more revolting
than kissing a girl --

and way better than Aunt Gladys
under the mistletoe.

Location: Oconomowoc, Wisconsin
Publications: Eclectica, Eye Dialect, 3rd Muse, Poet's Canvas, Stirring, etc.

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