Frayed Wires


The big man sits shame-facedly on the stand.

What is he there for?  Where does he stand

On the issue of incest?

Who will he infest?

He lies as he tries to hold on to something.

Puffy faces shout at each other.

Jeering, booing, it makes no difference to him.

We realize what’s held so dear.

What he doesn’t want to lose in all this confusion.


I hate, I hate, I hate.

I hate him, even though he says he loves me.

Even though he has proposed.

I hate him because of what he is and what he’s done.

I can’t be with a gay boy. . . .

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