um homem vila

There is this bodega
On Rua Alfredo Costello –
abutting a high school, &
Facing a posh nightclub –
Frequented by old and young alike,
For its inexpensive pingas
and caipirinhas.
~
Often, seen is this young man,
Gay perhaps, he is,
With clean shaven legs;
Thighs – which are thin as his legs;
Smoking a cigarette,
and holding a satchel,
On his narrow shoulders.
~

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He wears a sun-glass,
And his trousers –
Ah, it is summer now,
hence, the shorts, –
what a tight fit it is;
His gait sways like
The lilt of a leaf in gentle breeze.
~
He has a tattoo too,
Can not remember where it was,
As I found it on him,
At a supermarket,
Whilst he was drinking the beer,
From a can, though not paid yet.
~

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He smokes a great deal, I thought,
Has all the traits of a modern ‘gay man’.
A queer person from a village
Shall look at this metrosexual man
In utter awe or perhaps with a mild confusion.
~
…For the villager knows not
What maketh a gay person;
…For he knows only
The love of a man,
Not the external addendum,
That mars the true self.
..For he honestly believes that
Beauty is only skin deep.
~

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What will the village gay man
learn from his city brethren ?
What responsibility do the
city lads and dames have
for their village comrades
to co-opt in?
How will these families,
traditional as they are
embrace that homosexuality is not a lifestyle ?
~~~

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