I almost dropped a full-on load this afternoon when I got hit by that "NOT GUILTY" verdict that came down like a pipe on my head in the form of a newsbreak on my bedroom television. Just what the frigging HELL were those shipped-in Tampa residents watching for a month and a half anyways, Monty Python's Flying Circus episodes?!
What really bothers me is the new messages this ruling now sends like, "it's okay to kill as long as you have a murky family history," and "lying to the Authorities is not that big of a deal," and especially, "from now on, it is perfectly fine to throw away your two year old child so you can go to Target all by yourself and buy all the push-up bras and beer to help you party your damn ASS off so bad that even the most jaded gay man would call you a 'hot mess.' After all you are in a period of mourning."
The other day, I was AGAIN joining some group that asks too many personal questions when it is not a dating or chat or resume website. And for some reason (brain synapses actually working like they used to' and by saying "used to," I am talking about those magical days of the eighties, when it was okay to be a tad androgynous, as long as the outfit is cool, and you could dance), I actually tried to put some thought into it. So this is what I said, and now thanks to the tech-magic of the day, I can "cut and paste" this till those proverbial cows come home. Again, here it is:
"Anyways, I have always described myself as, "someone whom your parents, your friends, and general passerby warn you about," but that is starting to sound a bit old, tired, and, done (without sounding too gay, I think). I will admit that during the first 30 years of my life I have been an actor, director, stage hand, artistic director, producer, and even had my own little acting troupe in New Orleans (called the "crawlspace theatre"). After all that, I moved back here to try my hand at poetry, with I guess I am having a small (emphasis on the "small") bit of success. Anyways, the one thing most poets should realize is that most do not make it until they are dead (maybe that will change in a few years, but I do not think so. People who seriously read and love poetry like the feel of a book in their hands), so do not hold your breath."
I am having strange urges lately. The same urge that makes me want to pack up whatever I cannot sell (either because I couldn't part with it, or no one wanted it), and head down South to get some questions that have been bugging me for a long, long time.
