PARANOIA IN EXCELSIS by Dennis Doph

because why? 39

A few months ago
I dropped a silent tear
Over things I most regretted I had to fear
Now
I've fallen victim to another ploy: A
Swift visitation to the land of paranoia.

Here
Santa Barbarians smugly contemplate
Gay men amongst them
in these boring winter days
Calculate each precise degree of hate
To parcel out to us in their comfortable ways
Let us cut their hair
even select their clothes
Tuck in
gym-pumped unusable buns
Once we have got past all these and those
They get all paranoid about their sons

Never realizing
Most of us gay studs have no use
For all their smarmy sports-obsessed
little brats
While for heterosexual congress
they have reserved their juice
They wear amazingly gay feathers
in their flipped-backwards baseball hats

So
When on the Boardwalk of East Beach I pause
Watch some furry Beachdad stroke his furry chest
Find myself wishing I was in OZ
As in AUSTRALIA where Beachdads are the best
Here Beachdads wear out those feathers
Goddamn fast
Wear deadly stings in their posterior stingers
The next Beachdad I hit on may be the last
Most of these furry Beachdads are dead ringers

For Charles Bronson in his most feral
Death Wish Mode
Even though they appear benign and wuzzy
Touching one of them
Is like touching the Paranoid Father Lode
Next to one of them Charles Bronson
is a pussy

So
I'm resigned to keeping a safe distance
Holding my febrile charms safely out of reach
Keeping my zipper zipped
My treasure safely in my pants
And taking my talents off to some
more responsive beach

Even though
I keep on hoping one of these Dads
will want to please me
As he keeps turning his inviting baseball hat
I know
One of these sexy Dads is waiting round the corner
With a sweet smile and a baseball bat