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How to Tell My Dad that I Kissed a Man

by F. Douglas Brown

Blame your drag queen roommate—Lamar by day, Mahogany by night—and then
blame his sequined dresses—all slit high, up to his balls

Explain that dusk smells so different in Spain—musky cherry—tight tangerine burst—sage
mixed with lavender

Tell him you were under the influence of bees or bats—the spin and swirl of doves

Tell him you were half asleep—about to leave to the dunes just west of Madrid—better
yet say forest—he knows that crazy shit happens in a forest

Tell him no tongue but his mouth—wax-like and wet

Tell him timing

Tell him ease

Tell him sweat and sweat

Tell him lips

Tell him the juice—yeah saffron juice

Tell him flat-chested

Tell him, “crook”—I mean, “creek”

Tell him tales—lies—tears—water—weakness—churros—chocolate—hot—heat—heave—  

Hush

Hush

Hush

Tell him anything you want—then tell him

You did it again

F. DOUGLAS BROWN is a proud Cave Canem and a Kundiman fellow who teaches English at Loyola
High School of Los Angeles, an all boys Jesuit school. He has a MA in Literature and Creative
Writing from San Francisco State University. When he is not writing or teaching or pampering his
two children, Isaiah and Olivia, he is busy DJing in the greater Los Angeles area.
ISSN 2157-8079
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