“No fat, no femme, no slim, not them.”
I cringed at the words, my eyes bled.
I flinched a little as I furthermore read..
“Not above thirty, not below nineteen,
Not into lean, definitely not into queens.”
This was a profile so blatantly worded.
As I read more, my brain cells ungirded.
“We are queer, we can judge.
Be it jealousy or just a mutual grudge.
We have the right, more than those straights,
HELLO? We are gay. We throw around our weights.”
Said no sane man ever, or so I thought.
These are just words only the wicked ever sought.
I guess, I was wrong.
We fight for freedom, we fight for rights.
And here lies a lot that shamelessly benights.
Another profile opens, another summary down,
More disgust follows, now turns to frown.
“Muscular men are stupid, bottoms are bitches.
If you wear no brand, darling
Why don’t you die in ditches?”
So much you hear, so much they say.
They judge everyone – Lesbian, Transgender or Gay.
“You live in Mira Road, you are a plebeian.
I live in Lokhandwala, I am so not a median.”
“He’s got a beard! OMG! so hot.
Those brothers are gay. OMG! An incestuous lot.”
“He’s bisexual. Bloody two faced.
She’s Asexual. Haha! She never gets laid.”
All these words and all these minds, all these mouths, their thoughts maligned.
I am no saint, and neither are you. We go with the flow, we crack a joke or two.
To impress our dates, we follow suit. We ditch our conscience because of those brutes.
We live in a world where judgments are a trend. We wish to be like them. We give in, we blend.
And yet my heart simply wants to believe, for this is a thought I cannot deceive.
I am not so shallow, and neither are you. We are a good lot and we know that’s true.
Let bygones be bygones or so they say. Another fucked up quote, a few words in play.
Tomorrow will be Monday, more judgments to spray. Worry not, babe your defense will have its say.
“We are queer, we can judge. We shall bitch. Who gives a flying fudge?”
- Poem: Judgemental Queers - April 29, 2019