Boy So Queer
by E.J. Schoenborn

Runestone, volume 3

Boy So Queer

boy so queer his lines nowhere near 180 degrees
boy so queer his hair still stained pink in places from paint
boy so queer his smile kinks across his face
boy so queer his boss keeps labeling his cans of soup with the wrong name
boy so queer his friend’s mom agreed he pulled off that dress ‘cause he “got that bump in the back”
boy so queer he went as Velma to the Halloween Party
boy so queer the lines they ask him to walk curve like the necks of vodka bottles, the necks of boys in the backs of bars
boy so queer he’s told, “I’m fine with gay people as long as they’re not too gay”
boy so queer he learned to spit rainbows like bullets, like the people driving by whipping pennies, shouting faggot
boy so queer he learned how to wrap himself in sequins like a bulletproof vest, still a target
boy so queer his mom says to hide it from her job
boy so queer his mom’s boss told him, “I just don’t agree with that type of life”
boy so queer his mom’s co-worker cackled, “Gay people aren’t natural!”
boy so queer his family hides it in a pressure cooker at church
boy so queer he’s still told he’s going straight to hell
boy so queer the straights can’t bend him back
boy so queer because he’s used to bending over backwards
boy so queer his lipstick’s made with fat lips, busted lips, lip stains teeth scarlet
boy so queer he used to avoid alleyways like hazard lights
boy so queer he’s no longer scared to walk home alone
boy so queer he always feels alone
boy so queer his body is always approaching zero but will never touch it
boy so queer no one touches him anymore