when I was five I took
a ladder, bucket, brush, and magic
markers just in case
I don't know how
we learned how G-d created a
separation between dirt
but I never stopped trying
to break it.
Later I learned how to break rules
and later, I learned how to follow them
I ran with the midnight graffiti gangs
who always stop on red
cause when you look legit,
the cops stop watching
I got to the point where
the only rules I followed
were the rules I cared about
and that -- I want to tell you --
is how I found G-d.
I found G-d lookin' for an imaginary friend
I found G-d dumpster diving for a new life
I found G-d the night I let my body move with the music
instead of standing still
and fighting it.
I found G-d the night I found out
all my best friends were dykes,
girls who'd never want
my body or anything like it
but they hung around
for the punch lines anyway.
Sandy, some days
I want to walk with you
through the Castro
to my synagogue
i'll show you where i sit
on the men's side, where
everyone but me is gay
and I don't get
how they keep it
up
believing in a law
that doesn't believe in them
until Irving says
"the Rabbis had it right
they just never knew how good it felt
to give head"
And I want to tell you
how deeply I agree,
how God in my fantasies
has long long legs
and a short short skirt
I'll tell you all my secrets
and how the warranty on the girl
in my bed tonight
isn't covered under Jewish law
but G-d is still my security blanket
who I trust the way
i trust gravity and my grandmom
i think you'd understand that
I could clutch you tight too
your film might be my bible
telling every story of rebellion
i'd like to make my own
how we talk about God
with words usually reserved
for talking about sex
but instead we wake
and lace the mornings after
with prayers that paint the passion
of every Friday night.
Tuesday, December 9, 2003
Tremble With You
Labels: chomosexuals, gaydar, poems, san francisco, sandi dubowski
Posted by matthue at 7:25 PM 0 comments
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