You said, I don’t fit in
to your school regimen,
your narrow religion.
I don’t care for your gender rules,
your proper taste and good sense,
your money prerogative, and oh by the way
I see your racism, your sexism, your brutality.
You said, let’s taste joy.
Let’s make a new thing.
Let’s say out loud what everyone’s thinking.
Boys are feminine, girls are strong.
Elegance can be simple and art can be thick
and hazy and confusing and still be beautiful.
Food is life, and life is dirty, gritty fun.
God loves everybody, including you boring fucks,
and especially the poor.
There are armies waiting for truth tellers like you
and it can be such a lonely place.
I see your aloneness.
I want you to know, before you go,
however you go,
that it was you who made me feel less alone.
Not because you spoke universal truths,
but because you spoke your own.