Faggots

by Larry Kramer

Ah, the streets, the Streets, the streets, let us pause for an Ode to The Streets, Gay Ghetto, homo away from home, the hierarchy and ritual of The Streets, incessant, insinuating, impossible Streets, addictive, the herb superb, can’t keep away from you, always drawn to you, STREETS, speak of them singularly in the plural, like Sheep, Kleenex, Jell-o, blending, coalescing, oozing, all into one, all for us, how dramatic, how important, how depressing, fucking loneliness of walking alone and looking, displaying, on the streets—where so much time is spent, summer and winter, cold and HOT, You Can’t Go Home Again, anyway you can’t go home, who wants to go home, no cock suckers at home, dreary home, how many nights, hours, days, weeks, months, years, who’s counting, do these fellows, not me!, walk The Streets: Christopher Washington Greenwich Hudson West and Sheridan Square, such a parade, everyone dressed alike!, Hitler could recruit right here, the Gay White Way, Black, too, and Spanish, French, German, Italian, for Christ’s sake, Icelandic, those firemen really visit, every guidebook advises Hit Those Streets!, Mary, Show Them Pecs, Strut Them Buns, Pad That Crotch, Visit Them Bars: Keller’s, Ty’s, Cell Block, Ramrod, Stud, International, Peter Rabbit, Bunkhouse, Rawhide, Badlands, Tulip’s, Boots and Saddle, Cynthia’s, Tubie’s, Mine Shaft, Glory Hole, Pits, Anvil, Cock Ring, tomorrow night the new one: THE TOILET BOWL, oi!