“My God (men pose, elbows up) my home
was an ugly cunt
The rats and roaches, the limping hounds
I tell ya it was
Grief
(Men pose with legs bent fists down)
The old men who hid in their rooms
I hated them
Ascots
You know the kind
”Don’t want no trouble here”

“Ma’s neck in the heat, damp,
Reaching across the TV set
To change the channel
Yells, “Tell that faggot to keep it down!”
(Pose with long bent leg)
Theatrical, she was, and the poor man
Had to close his crossword, his magazine
And sit there by his lonesome
To the dim dim (Men fan down on these
beats)
Trailer of the afternoon;
Curs-ed, (Men look up) I was.”