Queers In Pershing Square - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
One hour, the allotted time for lunch.
A deli sandwich rushed at once to Pershing Square,
the boss had mentioned it in passing that first day
and I expected a few pigeons there to share.
Perhaps a pigeon, if allowed to be a human,
would talk like this one did, ' how do you do?
May I now sit with you to keep you safe
from other queers, there are sooo many on the Square? '
I had not seen all of the meanings in my book
of English words, and queer meant strange,
and also curious or unusual, that was it...
'How nice you look my friend, where do you hail from,
such perfect skin and lush thick hair, look at those muscles',
I must admit that this much friendly-like attention
alerted something in my self-protecting brain.
But when I left the little weasel tagged along.
And did invite me to his flat around the corner.
He'd show me lots of pretty photos and then some.
Inside the shop I told my boss of the experience,
he said the cure would be a girl all for myself.
That very evening I picked her, while explaining
the book of Dr. Taller to her fancy mom.
It was an absolutely poofter-proof solution.
It is called gay now, even on old Pershing Square.
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