Leon was shy and gay.
His Dad had not accepted
His confession.
Not much of a surprise.
Why me, why me,
He beseeched the silent sky.
Getting over “it” had not happened.
Leon hated the swishy guys.
Gay parades jacked him up,
Being loud inside a protective envelope
Was great but ephemeral,
Always landing him back in depression.
He called his Mom on Thursdays.
Dad visited with Leon’s brother and family,
That one day each week.
It was a tacit, almost acceptable, arrangement.
For Leon gay rights weren’t visceral;
He wished they were.
Losing himself in something
Outside his pathetic narcissism.
Tonight, might be different, he hoped,
He met Cal a week ago.
They agreed to a movie.
Best part; it was not a gay flick.
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