Don't Shut That Door! I'm Gay!
from Strange World Odd Person
© Rod Tame, 2013
Only been out three weeks
and keen to suck on that validating teat
of Canal Street.
But, here am I,
stood on that gaudy thoroughfare,
having a right 'mare
getting into a club.
A bitchy creature,
resembling eighties pop star Sinitta,
all day-glo and big hair,
tells me that I'm too much of a macho man
to go in there.
"Yes, I have been here before.
Yes, it was on a Saturday night.
Yes, I do know it's gay.
So am I!
Bloody let me in!"
OK, so I only mince lightly when riled
and a skinny vest on this chest would revile
even the most desperate,
but I'm hardly a card-carrying lad:
a football-playing chav
or a rugger-playing have-it-all
from a public school.
On the scale of camp,
somewhere in the middle
is a confusing place to be.
The closet door may open more than a jar,
but you don't register a blip on anyone's gaydar.