Friday, September 25, 2020

It's okay to pause and reach for a subjunctive form because by that point you are already on thin ice

Joe sat rocking singing drrdeedrrdeedrrdee and picking at his palm blisters. 
He was my lover.

Valentin shaved and looked deep into my eyes and even leaned back once for a kiss. 
He was my doorman.

Jaime's roommate died when a radio fell in the tub, and his sister wore a t-shirt that said "ZAP."
He was my pharmacist. And my lover.

Larry was frequently raped by a cousin, and his mom put him in a dress for Halloween.
He was my father. 

Wilbur, a US Army captain found lying in a French gutter, was shot dead by Nazis. 
He was Larry's father. 

Wilbur Jr., watching his cisgender, white-on-white generations spreading before him, is a SCOTUS voter.
He is a traitor to family and country.



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