the only boy who
could ever teach me
anything was the
son of a preacher man,

Bobby John Jack
in the alley sittin'
hard in the cadillac,
Dusty Springfield
blastin' from the
leopard deck,
speakers in back,

the only boy who
could ever teach me
anything was the
son of a preacher man,

"can you get away tonight
Pony Boy?" Bobby John Jack
asked, lurin' me to bite.

"might." looking down to
see how much he'd grown,
leather gear strapped around
his muscled rear, son of a
preacher man, he's queer,

"tonight, Bobby John Jack."
I walked away slow so his
coconut suntan oil didn't fade,
took out my silver Zorro, the
gay blade and cut the air,
I had it made,

elevator took me up to floor 22
Asian, African, German, Jew,
some gay, some straight too,
don't think I made it, heard
the plane hit the tower,
God! We're dyin' forgive
our sins, black smoke inferno,
terrorists in power,

"not tonight, Pony Boy."
Bobby John Jack planted
me a memorial flower,

the only boy who
could ever teach me
anything was the
son of a preacher man...


Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist