Becoming a Better Gay One Day at a Time
Let me just preface this by saying that I am not a poet. I did, however, think it would be kind of fun to participate in NaPoWriMo, the poetry equivalent to National Novel Writing Month. I debated for a long time whether or not to post my poetry online because…well, I’m not a poet. But then I realized that there are photos of me in awkward and embarrassing situations on here already, so what more social damage could thirty crappy poems do?
I’m just following the prompts, the first of which is to write a poem using a first line from another poem. The second prompt was to write a poem that’s a lie. So…here we go.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Long limbs stretched into hours, rough fingers into minutes.
Noon is your navel and center, the ridge where I can see
Your dusky eyes and twilit mouth.
Naked as the sun and rigid as the clock.
I hear the ticking in your swelter,
The dotted line of thought when you consider
Autumn is tomorrow.
An hour away, an arm’s length.
A minute away, a finger’s touch.
Two seconds away, and the summer of
Heroes and sweat and heaving and sex
Breathes its last.
I sit in Rapunzel’s tower
counting hair after hair after hair
as they fall from my head.
You’d think that by
the end of the day, I’d have
enough to make a parachute or at the very least
It is in this moment that I come across
three long strands.
I name them
I and love and you.
Then I wind them together.
I love you love I love you love I love you love I love you.
It is either that I need a new shampoo
or that Fate dislikes tying lies together
in a daisy chain.