A Few Feet In My Shoes


Here, this ought to do it. Let's pretend.
Let's play like you don't follow the leader,
Heeding the teachings of some cult figure,
Long dead and criminally misquoted.
And you are given orders to do something
By irresistible forces around you. Your home.
Your church. Your work. Your friends.
These well meaning people tell you,
"Marry a man, settle down, buy a puppy."

"But," you tell them, "I am a heterosexual male!"
They look at you sadly, sympathetic
As much as can be for someone they regard madly
And tell you happily, "But that doesn't mean
You have to do it, does it sweetie?
Just go out and have some fun, date,
Then get married to some very tasteful man,
And become a window dresser or a caterer.
Go to the local road company performances
Of all the latest Broadway hit shows.
But all the sound tracks and lip-synch the words.
Join Act Up and subscribe to the Advocate.
Get a permanent wave and a fanny tuck.
Shucks, in no time at all you'll forget all this,
This shilly-shallying and lollygagging with women,
Stealing them from their happy homes and wives,
Breaking up their nests full of children and pets.
It's not normal honey. Now, we love you, you know.
So, don't go thinking we are being mean to you.
We are trying to get into a space with you.
But to tell the truth, all this gives us the creeps.
So, please behave yourself and learn how to cook."