Eccentric dick

If we were red on the plains of Oklahoma,
many deep in our flourishing cities built
on fish and grass stains and old women
playing with little children and croaking
in the night, we would be revered.
If we were haunting goats on the savannahs
of East Africa, our faces painted white
how most of them are now, our haunches thick,
our bodies naked, we would be revered.
If we were taunting the Bible and the men
who tell of its intricacies to illiterate
farmers eating their own thumbs and cursing
like breaking birch, if we laughed at men
who never washed and stewed in their odor
they forbade the past, we would be revered.
If we were silent alcoholics cast out from
communes that never were, despite what vulgar
mobs think striking their children with switches,
we would be revered, but only if we were caught
solitary and insurmountably eccentric, winking.

About a community I am a part of without choice, and which I think is no community at all. Drugs beat drag, fucking apparitions.

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~ by Jeremy on June 13, 2012.

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