Men my age are still homophobic. Are we all this way?
Is this something at all controversial to say. Should I
Weasel my way out of saying it quite like
That? Because, come on, I
Am pretty sure what I’m saying is true, certainly for me.
And so
I read these baseball poems by Jack Spicer.
Which are cool. There is a comfort in doing so, even though my face surely
Glazes over as I do. And
Why would it not? And what a journey it is, really, to find any
Comfort in the company of male pastimes so testerone-laden? Especially if they sit
Grimly in the back of my mind among the more traumatic memories of
My Youthful Attempts at Fitting In.
