Life with the Gay Caballero
“aye, aye, aye, aye”
the annoyance of I
the single letter which leaves no rook
for interlopers
for transgressors who walk the we
togetherness a swear word not to be uttered
the impotence of I
skull bound
tongue-tied
housebound
the local hermit with a brown paper sack
the phony host
tempting with open door
who buries you under
palm crosses of their weaving
open ovens which lure with the scent of sugar cookies
poets, writers, politicians
mothers
fathers
spoiled brats
suckle the I
sunsets of yellow, red, brown, black, dirty white
are mine.