I recall him & I walking through the cozy sidewalks of Castro
at night. I couldn't tell it was dark though. Hot Cookie lights &
a purpled black "Q," pizza green bulbs & orange Walgreen lettering
illuminated my path. Distorted like vodka, glimpses drowned me in
a sea of bodies of men dressed in drag. Women in masks, Boba Fett,
& mummies with hard-ons littered my perception, but I made the
best of it. I'd no recollection of the effect of fragrance. With plastic
around my face I bruised the bottom of my eyeball; it's red now.
One spicy chicken sandwich, flat chested Russians posing for a photo,
& stockinged legs later, him & I made our way through the rapid
transit subway where the tired freaks slouched on concrete, while
their wigs unraveled down their chests. Exit 12th street & take the
800 route home. Telegraph shone brightly with fallen trees, and
leaves covering the ground. A cold return to our apartment, defrosted
windows, & there, upon the warmer sheets and blankets of my bed,
I crashed.
-Christopher Uller
