�War Versace�

We all stand on the front line waving our arms above our trends
Another fashion whistle signals headaches for some
We drop rubbish Es while the enemy circle overhead
Am I the only one looking up, prepared to fight
But I look around and question what is it that I’m fighting for?

I forget what we were fighting for?
Was it the freedom to fly a rainbow high
Was it the freedom of ‘choices’ from clever money men
Was it the freedom to all think and feel the same
Was it the freedom to be just like everyone else outside?
And I’m not so sure that I want to die for just glitter and Kylie

I stand watching the Trendy Wendys and old orange men gather together
Their squealing, twirling and floating takes my pleasure down
I can see an endless parade of males, but I just can’t seem to find the men
The hot pinks against the bleached teeth violate my eyes again
And now the murky side seems like heaven compared with this unfamiliar bright s**t…
Why am I here feeling like an outside observer to everything?

We agree that we try to walk the same streets
And sometimes we even dance to the same beat
But you weren’t even born when SHE meant the world to me…
So please don’t take away from what she means to me
I know that we are all trying our best to survive
But I couldn’t survive my life before Madonna arrived

And when the ‘music’ cuts in and then also does his jeans
The walls attempt to rumble to the turntable’s tinny dancing sheep
We scan the room for someone or something to be close to
But the back chat and catty backslaps reverb around the room
And so my ears are either deaf to dog whistles or their wasteful piffle
Why am I here feeling like some other kind of outcast alien?

After the celebrations have ended and this city returns to it’s everyday
You revert to sneaking your way around all the troubled married men
Despite coming out into the open, the fact is you still think that sex is disgusting

So you’ll be hiding up on the heath or dark interception down city side streets
You bang on about wanting the same things as everyone else
But you cannot bring yourselves to even sit next to me…

So I am like you,
But not like you
I try to like you,
But I do not like you…

So war- what is it good for?
Absolutely nothing.
 

Reviews

[Marlton]

An interesting take on the parade. Is their a quintessential fault line in gay culture between Kylie and Madonna? At first it seemed a trivial concept, and now that I've thought about it, perhaps its actually quite profound and meaningful, or least the connotations you place upon tof them each make it so.
A community based on sexuality is a strange idea, and I think you express well the sense of an outsider looking in paradoxicallt at the point at which the work views you as part of the parade.