Volume 29, Number 3

Homophobe Recommends Marrying a Potted Plant, a Dog, an Ottoman….

A woman who did toothpaste ads on TV
got into a high office and dismissed gay marriage
with Then what? Sex with chairs, tables, teddy bears…?
Bad logic aside, was it something in her broccoli stew?
something in her brain?
something too close to her own sexual issues?
something a fraternity guy told her? A knockout bod
and a frigid demeanor won’t get you far.
But look at her now. Even the Beat poet who masturbated
into a melon would scoff at her. How can you get a sofa
to say I do? Where would you take it on honeymoon?
Would sitting on a sofa at Sardi’s
look sexy when the sofa can’t protest? No way
knowing you’re gonna fuck it later?
And a spouse who can’t vote, work or pay taxes—
that’s worse than gays with their union: one partner
getting no benefits, etc. And isn’t there already
enough silence in too many marriages?
One thing’s for sure: she didn’t include tongue,
that fleshy organ, part taster, speaker, lover;
that denotative lasher, twister, sometimes tied
in a speechless knot; sometimes able to separate
tones played on flute, trumpet, saxophone…
Something those who speak in tongues believe
close to the Lord; something you don’t want to
divorce; something almost always,
when you’re awake, is on the verge.

—Charles Cantrell