August 14, 2009 11:04 PM
Cross-Walk
Sign here or sign there --
Is it Drag-King or Lady?
Tea-time or bath-time in gross-out suds?
Sweet flowered dresses or soiled hobo duds?
Flowery English or plain?
Back in the woods or on Main?
Do you own? Do you wreck? Do you shovel the poo?
Do you sing or attend or dye the tongue blue?
Which is the one for you?
Hurry, now, hurry and choose!
Time, time, time, they all take it!
Stake out your muck before they rake it!
Anywhere you go, this is so, you'll see!
They'll all say you'd better know which one to be.
But what if you find that you actually fit
not on the court
but in the old dirt pit --
under the bleachers of time?
A quieter place
where you see from all sides
and flit through the crowds like a ghost
and come in and out like the tide
and laugh off the old stench of pride --
'cause you hear and you know
and you feel the cool wind
of the crazily sane magic ride?
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