Let The Straight Man Through


I got into a bus and the conductor
Was going to issue me a ticket
Only this was the identity bus service
And sexuality was going to be my ticket

I told the conductor
No sir, I’m not happy, actually my baggage
Was only my little patchy hair-growth
And my diaper that my mom put on me
I’ve got small particles in my backside
And I really don’t want big particles there
Seemingly it was claustrophobic there already
And crowding appeared to foolish
Like a flying a kite in the rain

I told the conductor
No Sir, I will not walk the middle path
I could see the mountains too clearly
– Although my momma’s – and those snow caps
Surely needed a return 20 years down
No, I wasn’t meant for the open road
To smell roses on both sides
I would be a hunter in the estrogen chase
Charged up inside my foolish heart
Searching for eternal folly

So let me through, to take a seat
My heart was tired, so were my feet
It seems the straight road is harder
Than others, we have to be issued a ticket
A stamp barcoding us, when that little droopy thingy
Inside my pants, which pumps a little extra blood
When excited was not good enough
And straight through I walked
Until I got off at a little bus depot
Where a lass called Michelle was
And now I’m like a tangent weighing on a curve
A straight line that needs to anchor
To a curved form

And the bus number and my ticket didn’t matter there
She didn’t ask for either
What mattered was she trusted me
Like a child trusting his parents
And trust is the beacon, that shining light
That illuminates desire and kindles love-making
When she knew that my body was primed for hers
And love is that primal feeling
Streaming through cracks on her skin

And perhaps the happy fellow
And the middle man will too find love
After all it’s like getting off at the Disneyland stop
To discover no ticket booth there

So let the straight man in love through
He doesn’t need a ticket – nor does anyone else
To love not the gender,

Only another life form….


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