Your son is hopelessly gay"
She told my father

Before this was said
I found her delightful
The 43-year-old local
Who bought me a drink

My father
The father of the hopelessly gay son
Later informed me
That she had five kids by five different dudes
And said she was the C-word
And said he never used the C-word

My father is not a saint
He was not always nice to me
When I was nine years old
In love with a boy named Danny
And letting everybody know about it

Then I got depressed at 13
And his light bulb went off
And he realized that having an alive gay son
Was better than having a dead son

This is the same man
Who saw me in a Caryl Churchill show
Complete with monologue about anonymous blow jobs

This is the same man
Who literally bled putting up my loft freshman year
As I had no athletic skills to offer

This is the same man
Who signed all my tardy slips senior year
Telling me 'someday you will find someone who loves you for you'
Wrongfully assuming my laziness was about a boy
The thought still counts

This is the same man
Who will always fight for me

"She said your son is hopelessly gay"
he told me in the truck
I said I was sorry
He said not to worry
I now wonder what to feel

In the movie in my mind
I move beyond Jake's Sports Cafe
Alas
There is no such thing as a successful lazy person
Ironically
I learned that from Walgreen's World Magazine
Time will tell