I just came all over myself
Literally, thirty seconds ago
And you better damn well know
That I was planning on coming
Inside my belly button
And on the tummy hair which surrounds it
Right before writing this poem
I wanted to come and then write

Last night I was walking on Kingston Ave.
In Crown Heights
On my way to get some groceries for dinner
A man walked up to me:
“what are you some kind of fag? I thought you was a woman”
It was later that I realized
That it was my sexy legs that got his attention
My jeans were tight, that night (they always are)
I was wearing slip ons, and my pants are waaay too short for those shoes
It’s a hot look for me
Anyways
Calling me a fag was not enough
He thought I was a woman
Ahh.
So he saw my legs, and thought to himself:
“Damn baby, those are some fine ass legs”
And as his mind went to complete the thought:
“I’d love to tap that shit” – or, alternatively- “I’d love to stick my hard cock in her pussy”
His eyes wondered up my legs, past my chest
Until he caught sight of my full beard
And he felt emasculated
And diseased
And alone
And all he wanted was some hot ass
Cause he’s lonely
And a bigot
But I was just another faggot
So he had to say something
To regain his sense of self
To reassert his manhood
His ‘given’ right to dominate
Because otherwise
His whole world would fall apart
And he would have no support system
No one to hold him tight
And tell him that it’s ok if he wanted to fuck men
He would think himself a dirty, sick faggot
And probably hang himself
On his mother’s clothesline
Or blow his brains out
With his father’s shot-gun




By Lior