/For my Bisexual Mother, and her male-loving sons. /

And when my mall-model mother seems sedated she'll shriek "God's Will!" to wake the pagan streets.

And she'd have her son who was thin as a walking stick insect, carry her back her sheets.

Sing her to sleep for tomorrow holds a New Year, a rosary, in her fingers I laid.

And she'll pray the gay away, mumbling from her sleeping mouth, but we both stayed-

There...

In silence, until the hands of time struck midnight-

In silence, until my father...

Was aware.