I am sure this kind of admission shocks
some who read it. This is for you, G-Fix:
from the Summer of Sixty-nine to the Summer of Seventy-Six,
you were my foremost crush (even before and above David Cassidy,
barefoot in the so-called teen-crush magazines;
which---despite the judgmental stares of cashier-clerks---
I purchased). Prejudiced and prudish jerks
could not trample down my love for him or for you,
long-haired, shoeless, shirtless, clad in black jeans
and (what a bonus for me!) charcoal gray socks,
which shoes only rarely (another bonus!) concealed.
Through loving you, my soul's nature was revealed:
in gratitude to you, I offer this poetry,
grateful for what you silently taught me, too.
StarSpared