Faggotry from Early January

it was snowing at eight-fifty this morning,

when you kissed a boy on the cheek

“it was lovely to meet you,”

you knew you were never going to see him again.

His name was Lucian,

an underage kid you met the night before

at a music venue in Williamsburg.

really, you weren’t into the idea of going out that night

because it was cold

and a train ride seemed like too much effort

for overpriced drinks and a hipster crowd,

but you just had to get laid...

so to Bedford you went

in a short dress and tights-

your legs were numb and windburnt by the time you got there.

You were having a cigarette with your flirtacious crew of lesbians

when he stopped to ask what your name was.

He didn’t seem to mind that you stumbled around on the dance floor

or that you lit a cigarette indoors

or that you had to beg the bouncer to let you back in

and at the end of the night, when he asked for your number,

you suggested you spend the night with him instead.

He hailed a cab for the financial district

The backseat might has well’ve been a mattress.

You woke on the top of a dormroom bunkbed.

Lucian found your clothes when you told him to,

and upon getting into a cab,

you realized that 2010 was going to be a good year,

because you went out to get what you were looking for,

even if it was a substitute for something better,

and you found this morning

that Chico’s murals on Loisada,

the ones that always looked like propaganda to you,

were beautiful

because they reminded you that you were home.

and for a second you forgot how much you hated winter

because snow makes everything look beautiful.

The evening left your tights shredded,

your wallet cashless,

and even though the sex was good,

you can’t stop thinking about that something better.

Which is remarkable,

considering he’s twelve years your senior

and he’s been a junkie for almost as long as you’ve been alive,

and he can’t afford his rent,

and you’re sure the only thing he really likes about you

is that you’re a body capable of keeping the other side of his bed warm...

it’s amazing the way your brain works sometimes.

If only my parents knew.

They were right in not wanting me to come here.

They told me there’d be too many distractions

that it’d be too easy to get lost

And that it gets really cold in New York City,

But that’s okay today

Because I’m still young

And snow makes everything beautiful.