With his weekend mesh tee and so-called "track pants,"
Seb puts on a pair of semi-sheer socks---
so sheer except at the soft opacity
(doubled weave) that sheathes his heels and toes.
Jubilant in his Homosexuality,
old prudes' and haters' prejudiced rants
do not dissuade him. He laughs at all those
shrilly vociferous, perhaps envious, schlocks.
Without hatred, his soul rises above
the noise to concentrate on his boyfriend's love.
To his boyfriend, he says that wearing shoes
is a subtle version of real self-abuse.
To even this, the homophobes are obtuse---
steeped, as they are, in raging stupidity.
J-Called