Paul in Swan Lake
(tchaikovsky – c. clay)

all the little girls on the floor gonna learn
to dance from the man who kick & turn
& wink at his friend who always watch the class,
helps pick the groove & tight pants around his ass
on recital night all the parents gonna clap
& all the little girls gonna come & wrap
their arms around this man, this giver of grace
& wonder at the purple blotch growing on his face

paul i begin to sleep like a boxer
my fists hovering dumb over my head
you were hot to get into my torn up
18-year-old’s jeans my girl Sheila said
- i think she said it as a warning
i said “give him my number,” she gave it to you
& you called saying “meet me at fellini's at noon”
over coffee, thought to myself, “this must be love -
i believe! maybe he’s the one – paul.”

one summer rain we saw an art movie
we walked with stella & sendra and popcorn taste
i’d made out with riot boys on the state house lawn
- you'd never held hands with one at age 28
& how proud you looked to be holding mine
on this wet city sidewalk for the very first time
stella say “paul, guess we don't gotta pretend
to be lovers with our lover's lover turning round the bend
cuz there's a new generation & i think they strong
gonna teach us a new way & it's been a long time coming”
& paul, you smile

fey waiters getting sacked for serving swishy food…
these were days of “just round em up, put em on an island & nuke em”
our sheet jumped wild as sticky ghosts – it terrified the cat
“you know it’s gotta be love when yr fucked like that”

all the little kids in ghettoland
watch the white faggot with his tools in hand
he turn an old crack den into a picture book house
& you know what paul would say?
“i ain’t gonna rent to no breeders
let the muthafuckers sue me
let the law grow pale cuz it always worked against me
let it fly back in their face - ain’t no decency here
& no i ain’t gonna pay my taxes - i’m a muthafuckin queer”

paul i begin to sleep like a boxer
my fists hovering dumb over my head
one day I’ll be walking muscle & bone
- no trace of blood upon these streets I tread

one night you told me of a drag queen
you was with 8 years but never loved
you broke her heart, but she brought down the house
with “i will survive” at the boa club
her eyes never left yours through it
& you held her gaze
but my eyes were already on some
fool-but-suave closet case
& when i left you paul
i never did see your last dance
you & your little girls twirling
in piles of ash
paul – i heard it was sad

now all the little girls find an empty space
where they once met the man who taught them grace
there’s a “for rent” sign on the studio door
through the windows, see scratches on the sleek dance floor
& they’re feeling mighty bad, like “what did we do wrong?”
parents dwellin on limp wrists & and get the rumors on
& you know - you know - where swans go

sheila say: “ jojo i really need to talk to you”
we go to dunkin donuts with little baby darian
& as she change his diapers and i drink my coffee
i watch a quiver come up on her tongue:

Paul had a new boyfriend but it wasn’t the same
He was cold to the guy & said you was to blame
Which made me kinda mad, but he said you was the last
Bit of warmth bit of hope faith in love that he had
& that after you left he just gave up
Cursed love out & then he look so bleak
& then Paul disappeared, we lookin for days
Until this social worker comes around askin to speak…
Turns out Paul had AIDS, had it long time, I never knew
& something told me that he never told you
We thought he’d abandoned the apartment running from the tax man;
Our electric got shut of, so we’d said “Paul’s a prick”
I’d busted into his place & stole his stereo to sell it
Then his mom call & say he’d left cuz he got sick…
So yeah I put his stuff back & that’s the last that I heard
I guess he with his Ma somewhere in Western Mass
She’s a Pisces “Like Jojo was” he always say
& I feel so bad every time I pass his door.
You okay?

& when it comes to leaving planets. why wait?

paul i begin to sleep like a boxer
my fists hovering dumb over my head
one day i’ll be walking muscle & bone
- no trace of blood upon these streets i tread

Some queen calls saying, “Paul’s Dead. You okay?
Sheila’s Dead. Your Community’s Dead.”

i got you under my skin.