Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea ~ Thursday, May 7, 2026

I was born in Bombay, it means nothing

well, next to nothing, except to millions
and millions of other people, back then
still trying to thrive, eke out a living

but I have never been to India
or, should I say, been back, but for squillions
return, I must, to breathe foul air again
no, such hyperbole, taken for truth

indeed, I do not care, for Lydia
now knows how sinister the bourgeoisie

Bourbon neat, no ICE, please, not on the rocks
or, as a deportee, or retiree
maybe I can swim there, right off the docks
brilliant idea, no, maybe, in my youth
ah, double entendre, from Chicago
yes, no problem, Leander, long ago

if Salman Rushdie asked me to return
then, to Midnight's Children, the Stonewall Inn

maybe, Greenwich Village, Christopher Street
even if I am not gay, will I burn
angels dance, how many, a good question
no, fruitless, except for living in sin
sick, hateful, Catholic priests, walk the beat

nonsense, no queer priests, forgive Father Gus
ordinary people, a suggestion
that no one but the Church tries hard to hate
humanity hangs on by a mere thread
inventors of a world based on debate
nobody cares, especially the dead
given leave, maybe I will take a bus

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