Friday Poem

Being Called a Faggot While Walking the Road to Clemson, South Carolina

The honeysuckle dew slick
& sweet this morning

& only an empty Wendy’s cup
thrown to ditch

& the truck passing
(& it is almost always

a truck) slows just
to roll down

the window & O
I wish they could smell

this & O I wish
I could quit

them driving
so fast & missing

this honeysuckle, so dew-
sweet this morning.

by D. Gilson
from Split This Rock, 2015