An empty apartment. A studio. Wasn't it how many months ago? All this time wanting to be manifest, and instead being a vacuum. The car chase, the skid marks, the running from the cops. The car not being able to do what you needed it to. And you thinking, gay guys shouldn't be like this.
Taking the bus downtown to try to find a single street. Taking a bus to work and seeing who else takes this bus but crazies and the old and the poor... and the poor. Gay guys shouldn't be like this.
You remembered the sneer on that old guys pale face. He shouldn't hings like that. And your hands going to erase that sneer. The marks on his neck, the same marks left on the wood and steal beams you rise with every house you build. You could have broken his neck. But you didn't and who was appreciative? You could have broken his neck and you didn't. Gay guys aren't suppose to be like this.
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