Tuesday, May 28, 2002
Freshmen
Put on New Order. No, Substance, please. Yes. Those first few dormitory walls with pictures ripped from magazines; beautiful, half-naked people, all. Naked men were newer then, and I would lay on your futon on the floor, gazing up at them, all the people we were going to be. I ate up everything gay in that shitty little town; the bars and the books and the boys dipping their big toe, testing the waters. What was that song; everyone smiling and barefoot, holding beers and spinning. They cheered at the end. I was known for my parties.
Warm nights the temperature of our blood; heat lightning across the gulf. We’d sit on the dock and stir the water with sticks; the phosphorescent plankton swirling like constellations underneath. One heron stood still, scanning for fish. You never knew; I’d disappear and hide down there; wanting him to look for me, but he never did. He only loved you. I wish I could tell you I never do that anymore.
