You fall in love with their voices,
Those men you read about in books,
Not that you know if they ever really spoke at all.
They have large warm hands, and loving eyes,
So the author says.
These settings of hope
Fade into the hopelessness of reality
Like countless porn traded between computers.
They walk past you, these characters
-While your sitting on some bench-
Talking to whomever they will,
Little tufts of armpit hair
Exposed by the wife beater
These details
Which never seem to include you.
Loving men after all;
I think they love women.
And the fags,
Defy God
-Lovelessly or not-
When they admit their tastes,
God given or not.
I don't like this poem at all, defy god? what the hell, you have a lot of nerve you know.....who cares who other people like grrr people like you make me very angry.