This poem is for Darius Barney
Nose dripping red
Tongue tasting blood
Hands and knees on the street
A man in a skirt
Like a giant crawl-baby
Cops look at him
Darius Barney
On his hands and knees
They see that he's hurt
This cocksucker for cash
The man in a skirt
"I don't look like a woman," he says.
So there's no mistake
No mistake
A man who pays him, pays Darius Barney,
Knows he is renting the time
And the services of
A man in a skirt
A man who will open his mouth
To another man
For money
This poem is for Darius Barney
A Navajo
An Indian
A Native American
A man who
Works in a skirt
This poem is for Darius Barney
Who has seen a gun
Felt a knife
Been raped by two men
Who knew they were not raping
A woman
"I don't look like a woman."
The men who raped him, raped Darius Barney
A man in a skirt
This poem is for Darius Barney
A faggot, a fairy,
Transvestite,
Ho-Mo-Sex-U-Alllll
A gay man always gay
Always a man
Always a gay
Always a Navajo
This poem is for Darius Barney
Who is always a man
And sometimes
Only sometimes
Wears a skirt
Previously published in “Chrysalis Quarterly”
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