SO, somewhere along the line, with all my social service work and community action stuff I managed to worm my way into the public sphere and became a POSTERBOY of sorts for the Philadelphia Queer Youth Community. It's sort of...overwhelming. I've won Philadelphia's Diversity of Pride OutYouth Award, received the Jonathan Lax Scholarship, been featured in a lot of the gay newspapers in philadelphia and some of the NOT gay rags AND just recently I was on TELEVISION (my mother DIDN'T kill me) because I was on the opening panel for PrideFest '98. I'm sort of spooked by all the attention. But I suppose it's for the best, as long as the message doesn't get lost....

I want to be the poster-boy for the entire Queer Nation.

I'll be such a minority

that they could not possibly

find fault with me

and under the cloak of being P.C.

They'll hide their aggravation--YES!!!

I want to be the poster-boy for the entire Queer Nation.


I will picket; I will riot

I will stick it in Anita Bryantıs

face 'til she turns BLUE!

(But there'll be another side of me too . . .)

I'll get angry, cry, lose the time that I've invested

be frustrated and disgusted

as I watch my friends die from not getting tested

feel the pressure of society

pushing its grubby fingers down on me . . .

And I SWEAR, if Dole wins the presidency

I'll expatriate to somewhere "safe" for me.


But, luckily, it hasn't come to that.

The more my people gain, you see, the more they are set back.

And I'm perfectly willing to accept that

if I can take it standing on my own two feet

with my senses sharp enough to recognize political deceit.


So, for now, I'll just live that fabulous life

that all the straight girls accuse me of having

hope that the government gets it right sometimes

and that I donıt forget the need for laughing.

Fight the hate and anger I encounter every day

with intelligence and a smile to rival Doris Day's

so that late at night I won't have to carry

my ass out of the bed of the man I love (but can't marry).




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