Provincetown, 1998

I wonder, now, if I wasn’t
fetishizing the people
with whom I celebrated
my impending nuptials.
I consider, now, how it
might have looked, this
drunk young woman
flashing her diamond
at the drag queens and
demanding their attention.

Be happy for me!
Because of the circumstances
of my birth this go around,
because I came into this
world squalling as you did,
red-faced as you did,
but heterosexual and
gender-normative,

I get things that you don’t.

Now bring me up on that
stage and lip-sync
“MacArthur Park” to me
and CELEBRATE, as
my giggling companions
toss penis-shaped confetti
and down Godiva martinis.

I’m so sorry.

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