PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Suddenly, and without prior consideration, the

color of your polo shirt, and the bagginess of

your bell-bottom jeans are not important.  Only the

socks you chose to put on this morning now

matter this afternoon:  so you slip your shoes off

(far too confining anyhow, regardless of the

school's demanding dress code).  You flex your

feet delightedly and, across the classroom

(fifth period English, well into the Autumn

term of Seventh Grade), the young Poet (a nerd, a

bookworm) becomes very alert to your long-haired

blonde beauty and militant shoelessness, his gaze

immovably fixed upon your socks, and the way the

incredibly soft fabric clings to the rather

shapely contours of your slender and agile feet.

He immediately accepts the leading edge of the

first wave of an identifying Homosexuality

(declared by prudes and haters to be perversity).

Mostly dormant, his life's destiny

(which is Christ's Will for him) suddenly

blossoms, and live leaves begin to unfold that will be,

across sufficient time, the pages of his Poetry.

Taking your shoes off, that afternoon, so casually,

made you (he now realizes) his first Muse, Antony.

Starward-Led