Gay Men

When you have two sticks

which you rub together

to make fire.

Angry Young Man

I don’t know why guys didn’t get the memo,

you know, that it is okay to be men,

no matter who you love.

I imagine the angry young man,

angry at other men being different to him,

or so he would claim,

grabbing me by the throat and

yelling his abuse.

“How dare you not be like me!"

“How dare you make it hard for the rest of us!”

(I’m not sure why) “I hate you!”

I look into his blue eyes

when it is hopeless 

and tell him to let go,

“Be free,”

“you never know who you might meet.”

“The love of your life, man,

just like that.”

“Why do you resist it so much?

Whether they have a dick, or a hole,

what’s the big deal?

It is all the same love you feel.”

He’d spit, and scream and stomp off.

“Love, not war,” I’d call after him.

"Love not war."

"Fuck off," he’d reply

over his shoulder as he goes.

As all he sees is his own pain 

reflected in my eyes.

Growing Up

I was called a handsome young man when I was young

when I don’t really think I knew 

what handsome meant.

People said I was so together as a kid,

an old soul, wise beyond my years,

when I wasn’t sure what a soul was, wise or not.

My mum said I had lots of friends, 

I’m not sure I knew what the standard number was?

And then I got older, and more anxious with so fewer friends,

almost overnight,

it would seem.

And I wish my mum was alive 

to tell me how special I was

just one more time.

Making Friends

I’m not so presumptuous,

so, I don’t make friends easily.

I make friends for life.