Haiku Story Cycle for the Homophobic Dudes in the Truck who Threatened Me.
I’m out for a walk!
What a perfect night for this.
Lilac in the air.
Oh, shit. Goddamn it.
A truck mounts the curb. Assholes!
Easy to spot them.
Seatbelts unbuckling.
They check for cops and see none.
This looks bad for me.
Truck with a Hemi
That is a big engine, boys.
compensating for…?
You shouted “faggot”,
Windows rolling down, letting
all the jizz escape.
Five men, confined space.
Huddled so close together.
And I’m the gay one?
I’m wondering though:
How did you know that I am
homosexual?
I’m not gay, fellas,
but why bother explaining?
Let’s see where this goes.
Did you see my show?
I played a gay man in that.
Or could you have known…
I write musicals.
I worked for the gay film fest!
Oh, it’s the glasses.
Glasses make me gay?
Everyone over Forty
is crazy flaming!
Seriously though,
let’s do this thing. I’m ready.
I can run so fast.
Leaving already?
Too much foot traffic around,
or do you lack balls?
My gay friends would laugh.
How you drive off so quickly!
Something smells like douche.
I barely had time
to turn off my iPod. Yeah-
Full of musicals!
Wish I had a truck.
Then I could drive it around
with my small dick out.
You can threaten me,
but you can’t threaten the gay
out of yourself, guy.
Where are you going?
Wendy’s, and the liquor store.
Drink the shame away.
Conflicted joy ride.
Clad in Tapout apparel,
aching with desire.
Blasting your Hip Hop,
Bass pounding like beating hearts.
You five are now one.
A distant campground.
Hastily erected tent.
First erection joke.
Another beer. Another.
Everybody getting loose.
No inhibition!
Even this hammered,
you hate yourself, undressing.
Chad laughs. “You faggot!”
Penis puppetry.
Such awkward foreplay disguised
as drunken nonsense.
But then he holds you.
Bourbon breath and such rough hands.
Alone, together.
At night, no sleep comes.
The only thing that comes is
your friend inside you.
A single tear falls.
your fondest wish realized.
But he won’t love you.
“Hush now”, he will say.
“You can’t tell anybody,
that we just did that”.
The next day, nothing.
He won’t even look at you.
Your heart is breaking.
Your friends drift away.
Somehow they know what you did.
Takes two to tango.
What of Chad? Afraid?
First silence, then more gay jokes.
He hates himself too.
Driving back to town.
The smell of him still on you.
Somehow, like lilacs.
You drop them all off.
In your driveway, weeping hard.
Best night of your life.
So, they call it gay
because they are happier.
I wish that for you.
-RRT
