Like a roller coaster, like a kiddie’s
park, ride me. I’m hard outside but a fag
deep down — as if I caused your furious
hate by just being me — your: punching bag
— you: thug 4 life. Like Pennywise, I will
let you think that you won. It’s your gospel,
bully’s wet dream, hater hating. What thrill
comes from violence? I’m the gay teenage skull
that you kicked and kicked. Did I say fags? Queers?
T-boys? Dykes? I tell you: there is a price
to this, all rides must end, all that straight hate
that you have toward us perverts who appear
as love’s martyrs. If I’m obsessed with vice
that’s your doing. Love calls. I won’t wait.