Adventures
of Rat Boy
you were always a queer little
boy
I mean that
in the archaic sense of
my own historical
lexicon meaning
unique different
extra-ordinary the
words I grew
up with as opposed
to the name
you now embrace
with your tales
of super human feats
and exploits
of speed and flight
and visibility
you aligned yourself
with rats I
think you identified
with the darkness
the scurry of time
and their gentle
intelligence
your flock
of hair dark in your eyes
some or another
blanket tied about
your shoulders
derring-do in your
diapered shorts
as you’d land from
the couch with
a “da-ta-da!
I am Rat
Boy!”
now you are
not so little
you are not
the queer little boy I
could hold
in the palm of my hand
rocking you
throughout your sleepless
nights afflicted
by some fear or sickness
that only I
could subside by rocking
and singing
low sad songs about your
blue eyes pale
in the twilight
perhaps this
was the darkness you tried
to hold onto
for so many years
slumbering
against my neck
my hand at
once soldiering you and
caressing your
tiny back secure
and wanted
and loved
no you no longer
are that little boy
you are a man
forthright still queer
however now
it is on your terms
the colloquial
mantle you carry about you
in your furthering
defense of truth and
righteousness
of becoming
erect and defined
substantiated
in a society
callous and afraid
you are not
that queer little boy
you are my
son still wanted and loved
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