Updated: Aug 21, 2019
anthem for red clay queer america
We’ll always be here
in our backroom bars and bookstores
the jawline of the tattooed butch tending bar
the tender boy thumbing your mouth under the live oak
We’ve always been here
under the red eye of the pastor-politician
You mix your iced tea
sit on your front porch
in cutoffs and rolled sleeves,
coveralls and baseball caps
rainbow tees and shots of T
fishing the lake. swimming the creek.
The humid air embraces us equal.
the ones who stayed
to dig toes into red clay.
not scattering to the bustling coast but
holding together, kudzu over the old barn
where you first kissed, for real
and felt the buzz of cicadas under your skin
the wink of lightning bugs behind your eyelids.
and watch the sun set over the pines.
for Samantha Allen, “Real Queer America”