June 1, 2021

just remember, folx,
in this epoch of rainbow capitalism
that wearing your Pride is encouraging,
exciting,
exceptional,
try (if you can) to buy queer-made
so that our money funds our community,
and so that the big businesses know
they can’t obfuscate our memories
with shiny color spectrums;
we remember when they funded hate speech against us,
(and we know they have never formally apologized,
just realized they could take our money as well as our humanity
at the same damn time),
and we know the true meaning of Pride
is against the man
against the machine
against the culture of conformity.

our ancestors fought hard fights
for us to live out loud today.
let us honor their memories
by fucking with the system
that holds anyone down.

September 5, 2020

when one is used to long long car trips
four hours feels like nothing.

and when hours and hours and hours of driving
usually requires an audio distraction,
shorter distances can be all conversation
(and you can fall in love all over again,
even without first falling out)

June 28

our walking tour of the historic sites of stonewall and gay Greenwich Village
was postponed, likely to be canceled, without notice
for a Lady Gaga concert scheduled to begin
in seven and a half hours

and if that isn’t the perfect metaphor
for the commercialization and lost history
of Pride

i don’t know what is.

May 26

(the end of a trip)

things we will miss:
-walking everywhere
-IncaKola
-how quickly coffee is made

things we are excited about:
-our own bed
-seeing (and cuddling) our animals
-a warm house
-being able to fill our entire lungs
-long hot showers
-bagels
-feeling safe enough to be gay together in public.

May 20

when coming to Machu Picchu
many people call it a
‘bucket list trip’

to be there

to hike the entire Inca trail

it has also been called
‘a professional photographer’s dream’

and

‘spiritual’

but what happens when the busses
splattering mud
spewing diesel
cart tourists up and down that winding mountain road
all day long?

are we really experiencing something fantastic
before we die?
recording in image the beauty of long ago?
connecting spiritually to the past?

or are we simply a cog in a (money-making) machine?


how much of our respective ‘esposos’ can we talk about
and laugh
before the commonalities become apparent
and our wedding rings begin to look too similar?

(on homosexuality being illegal
but not necessarily punishable)