Cupcakes


Cupcakes
 
The school breathes with
whispers,
            laughs,
                        talk.
The lockers slam,
            the polished floor squeaks.

Across the murmur three words drift…
            “That’s so gay.”

A pang in my chest and my eyes snap up.

        My mind spins back to that day when my brother made cupcakes.
                    Cupcakes with icing.
                                Icing that made words.
                                            Icing that said, “I’m gay.”
        My skinny big brother
            who saved me when I got stuck up in that tree.
        My quiet big brother
            who wore a dress for a year when he was little.
 

        Was gay.
        And that was okay.

It wasn’t an insult.
It wasn’t bad.

I feel like going right up and saying
            “How dare you!”
            “Don’t say that!”

But… maybe they didn’t mean it like that.

Their words drift into the chorus of
Six hundred talking kids.

But they echo in my head for hours.



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My poetry has three main elements. First of all, play with words. For example, rhyme and alliteration. Then, my favorite aspect, description- "show, don't tell." The goal is to get the reader to experience something that the author did, with all the senses, so that the words evoke an emotional reaction. Everything has already been said but one's experiences. Thirdly, this emotional reaction is used to connect or analyze deep central ideas. Much of my poetry, especially the earlier stuff, lacks some of these elements, but my goal is to include all three.  This poem mostly utilizes description of my experiences, but I think it works anyway.

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