This night is as queer as
the gay mohawked punk
who complimented my jacket
on my way to the A train
in the village,
only the night isn’t actually half as interesting.
The asshole sitting next to me
has boundary issues
and a fur lined hat
that only Putin could love –
he also talks loudly in Russian
to his imaginary friends.
How have I lived this long without JeffisHe?
This express train
is running far too locally.
Russian weirdo rips his top
and snaps his fingers on nipples
as orange as Trump’s face.
“Smile Bitch”
His sick room gas mask
is the perfect touch
and brings everything together
in apocalyptic chic.
“Now runaway.”
His stripey pants replacement
smells better but transmits plague
as if it’s a rebel yell
reaching across the air waves
to stifle, strangle, promise and repeat.
My reviews are honest but petty…
street queer deserved better.
Written by Jason Wright
March 6, 2018