fourth grade

I didn’t care that
Boy George
Looked like a girl
I wasn’t entirely sure
What a fag was
I just knew
That if I was a
Chameleon,

I’d come and go
I’d come and go


daniel romo (Grants Pass, OR, 1973)

you and me

I stood in line at 7-Eleven
after my nightly workout
to buy a quart of milk,
because osteoporosis isn't sexy.
And because I still believe
somehow,
it will do my thirty-something year-old body
some good.

Carefree college dude in front of me,
whose mondo snug tee
said I ♥ MILFS,
and barely covered
his corpulent Heineken-bolstered belly,
asked the cliché Calcutta clerk
if he could get him
an obscure brand of cigarettes;
the clerk had to be
guided three times
before he got it right.

"Dhis one?"
"Dhis one?"
"Dhis one?"

I walked out,
envying frat boy and his life,
remembering when…
guzzling my milk.

Carefree college dude
sat down on his beach cruiser,
coolly tapping his sandal to the ground
puffing away
looking up at stars
that weren't there.

I chugged quickly,
staring at him until he looked at me,
Shaking his head in dismay as if to say,
"Hey. My life's not any easier Bro..."


daniel romo (Grants Pass, OR, 1973)