I come from circus people

I come from circus people.
The endless practice and danger
made me hunger for normalcy
but mom said we were stars
and there was no quitting.

Morning after morning I suited up.
Their hands would grip my flying wrists
as always. Trust and caution became
a daily grind — but one from which
every moment offered escape.

If I sulked in the trailer long enough
dad would come say they were sorry,
I used to hope. No one came
so you must show them, I told myself
in fierce conversations that continue still.

Going without supper one night I ate
the sweetness of that slip from which
you do not recover your footing.
The tightrope is a receding distance,
the tension that passes for poise

Gay pride day, 2015

Making us pledge allegiance —
it started for me in 1959 —
was coercive. Who the fuck even
knew what allegiance meant? We
were five years old, palms across
our little tits like baby fascists.
And that under–god stuff is way out
of style, not even part of the original spiel.

I get all that. But there was something
to be said for drumming liberty
and justice for all into our tiny heads.

Mo Pain Prince of Thieves

"Yo, Corporate!" the young black dude
hailed me as I was heading back to my office.
He was hawking cds on Sixth Avenue.
"I'm out here trying to live
the dream not the nightmare."
Upbeat and handsome. Presentable.
Unlike Mo Pain and DJ Infamous
on the sleeve he put in my hand.
Mo and Infamous were gangsta.
Black tees and tattooed muscles.
Hoods on their faces.
So I looked up at him and said,

"You saying I'm living a nightmare?"
"No man you livin' your dream."

Three celebrity sightings

Ted Danson was alone on Spring Street
armed with just a shopping bag
as we approached from behind.
My college pals and I had just finished
our once–a–year reunion lunch
so were not what you could call sober.
Overtaking him I said "God bless you."
Ted's head whipped round
but once he saw I was a harmless old guy
I got that big grin and the white hair
and a thank you and he touched my arm.

At an upper–east–side party
so big and crowded there were two bars,
I left my date at one of them
and had a look around.
After completing a circuit
I reported who was at the other bar
and in a flash my date was gone.
I caught up with her and confirmed
how normal and happy and relaxed
Mick Jagger looked (with L'Wren, he was)
and as he passed us, the words
"God bless you brother" came from me.
In a beat "Gaw bless yew tew" volleyed back
with a look from those eyes into mine.

A gallery dinner in Bushwick
was where my friend Bob spotted Larry Clark
looking lovely and fragile, with a cane.
Larry was sitting with someone Bob knew
so we went over and got introduced
and I said — well, you know what I said.
As we walked away Bob told me
"I don't even say that when people sneeze."