June Flowers
I Think I Want To Like Girls


the grass is under my feet growing. my

mind is racing, but no more. there are doors

to nowhere, doors to everywhere. breathing

is central and i am breathing. the roots of

trees twist underneath the grass. i am

smiling through my eyes.

So many things don’t make any sense. No matter how hard you think about them, they just make no sense. Then other things are no-brainers. And I am tired of hearing about them. I’m actually disgusted. I go about my day, and I am surround by hateful words and actions. People have no idea how offensive and hurtful they can be.

And these things that make perfect sense should be dealt with already. Most people really are in the dark as a whole. Equal rights for all regardless of ethnicity and sexual orientation. Why is this an issue? Why is this still an issue?

I can even understand if you don’t like gay people, or Italians; and if you think like that, you are entitled to your opinion. There are many people I do not like, but there is no one people I do not like. I don’t make sweeping generalizations about groups of people. It is never right to hate a group. Judge the individual. 

I understand you perfectly when you say you are not homophobic, just homo-disgusted. I am tired of hearing about it, because it is so stupid. And there are many gay people to blame for portraying us in a bad light. Gay people speaking for ‘all’ gay people really annoy the heck out of me. I am nothing like the gay celebrities you know. You wouldn’t know I was gay if you didn’t know me. I don’t talk with a lisp, or prance around in bull dike clothing.

I don’t know why everyone doesn’t get it by now. Believe what you want, but never infringe on the well being of others, and when you interact in society be logical. Judge the individual. But keep in mind it is the individual. It isn’t gay people; it’s that one gay person, that one black person. Ethnicity, orientation—these aren’t parts of the business world. How could people still discriminate?

And it happens all of the time. It happens all of the time, I’m telling you. Not to change the subject, but you won’t believe the comments I hear walking down the street holding hands with my girlfriend. You won’t believe what people say, or how they stare sometimes with inquiring eyes, but more often than not with eyes of hatred, eyes of disgust.

I feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I actually feel physically vulnerable and violated. Some men have actually approached me, with my girlfriend, and started getting physical with us. They think they know what we want, or what we need, or whom we should be with. Now I’m not fighter, I’m a woman. I’m an artist. I’m so thankful to be an artist. If it weren’t for that creative outlet—I don’t know where I would be. Sure I enjoy writing a few poems here and there—but most of the time I paint. Many of the poems I’ve written, I’ve written with a brush—just because there wasn’t a pen in sight.

Creativity is a very interesting topic. Creativity must have freedom from the mind, freedom from knowledge, and freedom from prejudices. A creative person makes mistakes because the ‘right way’ is a way that has already been established by others. There is nothing creative about it. I move in wrong directions all of the time, but I learn, and I like to think I do things that have never been done before—you know.

The most creative people are not very respected. Creative people are thought to be eccentric and mad. We are also considered to be inefficient because we are always jumping from project to project constantly experimenting. We cannot settle anywhere, or stay in any one place because we need to take chances, we need to take risks, and we need to be constantly on the go.

But back to some men, I got a bit off topic—I believe deep down they know, they understand they aren’t getting into my pants. It is safe to say no man will ever get into my pants willingly. Just the thought disgusts me. It would be like trying to convince a straight guy to fuck another guy. You can’t do it.

And I can’t believe most guys are really that stupid—really that insecure with themselves. Why would a straight guy even want me, knowing I’m not physically attracted to him? They can’t be that stupid. I think the problem with some men is they know things, but they choose to ignore them. They fail to recognize anything not in accordance with how they think.

Some people really believe that a gay person turns gay. You can turn gay. That is absurd, but a lot of good people believe that. I remember when I ‘came out’ to my parents. Just the fact I felt compelled to come out. How they did not know is beyond me. They always had to know. And why did I feel like I was hiding something? Doing something wrong? It took me a long time to realize I wasn’t. It took me a long time to stop trying to change who I am.

I went away to college. Not to far away, I stayed in the state, but my parents decided to move. When I came home, there was nothing 'homey' feeling about the place. It just isn’t my house you know. I mean my room had my stuff in it, but it’s not my room, it’s not my house, it’s not my town, my neighborhood, it’s not anything. It’s just the new place my parents live. And on my first trip to this new house, I wanted to bring my girlfriend so I did.

Before going there, because it’s on the way, we went by my childhood house to see how she was. We parked a bit down the street, all I could think about was that house, how much I loved it, the good times—that was my home, and it was nice seeing her. I never thought about my one childhood nightmare even though it was a tremendous part of my life, and that was nice as well. I never associated the house as being responsible for what happened to me. What happened to me had nothing to do with that beautiful house and property. And seeing it again was strange. I knew I would never step inside again, and even if I did, it would no longer resemble anything I remember.

When I saw the driveway, I don’t know why, but I thought of my driver’s ed teacher. I had the coolest driver’s ed teacher. This guy, Joe, he would let us drive around in our own neighborhoods to familiarize ourselves with our own environments. He would always say, “Most accidents happen right close to your home.”

He would give us the answers to the test, ask us if we had any questions—making sure we understood why the answers are what they are, then hand us the test. And look at me—who is the best driver around? Damn right I am. I really love that Explorer, it’s great, and you know I push that thing. I drive that truck—in two years I put what 70,000 miles on it, and I got it with 44,000. I hope it will be all right. That truck is my baby. And more than one person has told me I drive like a man. I know that is meant as a complement, and it is because I drive that truck. I don’t let the truck drive me.

You really think so? You think that’s the problem? A starter isn’t a big deal, thank goodness. I have everything I could ever want in that truck; cd’s, gum, tampons, wet wipes, sunglasses, Advil—and on top of that I know just what she’s capable of. Well, I realize that, but it is just a fact of life, one day I’m just going to have to get another truck, but I hope it isn’t for a while yet. The leather seats are still in great looking and well broken in. They’re like butter now.

Cars are just like people though. There comes a point where what you are putting in greatly exceeds what you are getting out. I know, I know I’ve put more money into that truck to keep it going than it is worth. But I love that truck. She’s been good to me. She’s no ordinary truck, and I think I’ll probably keep her even when she no longer runs.

Some people, even those you once loved, you just have to cut them out of your life. I’ve done it; nobody likes doing it. People really do change. You can be in love with the past, and who they were, but you don’t have to like, nor do you have to respect what they’ve become. And who knows if how you remember them, or what you believed them to be is what they really are?

Anyway what’s going on with you? Are you ever going to get normal and get a girlfriend? Be like me! How do you like this place and the divine weather we are having. It isn’t called Bonobo’s you fool; it’s called Bollo’s. It’s a vegetarian café slash bakery, not a primate. Why do you think I picked this table? It’s great, we are the only ones outside I can enjoy a few cigarettes and not bother anyone. You can enjoy a few cigarettes and not bother anyone. What do you think, are you going to break down and smoke a cigarette with me after we eat? I know you don’t smoke.

Here comes our food. That looks like a nice omelet you had them create. What is that, I don’t remember what you ordered? Spinach, feta, and tomato—that’s what I thought. And those are real home fries. You know it! Just watch, you are going to feel great after eating this. Everything here is reasonably priced, yet organic and healthy.

Just look at this day we are having! I’m so glad you are down here visiting—I miss you, and listen—listen—Van Morrison—what is that? Yes it is, it’s just warm love, and it’s ever present everywhere. If we—let me rephrase that—when we go out tonight, you know you don’t have to feel compelled to play for my friends and myself.

I told them everyone my friend Williem the most eligible bachelor in the universe would be in town. Don’t thank me, that’s the truth. I also told the owner of that bar, you know that one you just ripped three songs at last time you visited me that you would be in town, and I told him we’d stop by to say hello. He always talks about you, asks me about you—he said you are one of the most amazing talents he has ever seen. No, I don’t expect you to play anything. It would be nice though?

I do realize this is a vacation for you. And if you noticed we’re drinking Bloody Marys. We are getting our drink on. And it’s not even mid day. I know you like to play dry, so no, don’t feel compelled. You are hearing me just fine. But let me tell you, a few of these girls tonight, you are just going to love. You can take a quick power nap—that should freshen you right up.

Excuse me waiter, can I have one glass of water for me, and a glass of water for my friend. No, cut him off. Williem, we can’t possibly have another Bloody Mary. All right not just plain water—he can have a little lemon. Yes, bring him two glasses of water with a little lemon, and bring me two Bloody Marys.

That waiter didn’t have a clue ah? No sense of humor. But seriously Williem, not only am I your friend—I’m a big fan. You always enquire about my photography, my art. And you’re a harsh critic. I would go as far as to say you are a real son of a bitch sometimes. But I know you enjoy and appreciate my art, as I do yours. What I really like about your music is you can draw on other’s experiences and make them your own—turn them in to heartfelt moving pieces.

How is your best friend, that poor tortured soul—and when am I going to meet him, what are you waiting for. Doesn’t he go to school down here, at William & Mary or something? That isn’t so far away that we couldn’t swing on over there tomorrow and meet up with him. It is silly for you to come all the way down here and not see him. Of course I would be interested in taking a trip back to Williamsburg. That’s my old town. By the way, how long are you staying in town? I know you; that’s subject to change. So you’re going to leave more like the day, after the day, after tomorrow.

Ohh, Here come our drinks. No I stopped doing that, but it was great? I have to tell you it was great, and I really started something. It came about as a project really. No, not for class or anything. You know how I’m always doing things you shouldn’t do in public. So I decided to walk around with my little bongo set. And I would make music. Wherever I walked, or if I was reading and studying outside on a beautiful day. It was completely absurdly ridiculous.

And people loved it. People would actually want to meet up with me; people starting walking around, and still do walk around with bongos—with all types of instruments. Why the hell not right? I deserve to have my own theme music everywhere I go. I think some students are actually starting a club called “Organic Theme Music.” They are going to set aside time to walk around, hang out, and just improvise. I know crazy right?

The best is, just recently, I was walking around Macy’s. You know the Macy’s home section, looking for some cooking ware, and I belched. There was a woman next to me, and she said, “That is completely horrible. You should be ashamed of yourself.” I just looked at her, I swear to God Williem—I turned to her and said, ‘I’m sorry did I get you,’ and she said, “What do you mean?” So I just burped again and blew it right into her face then smiled like a little girl.

She was horrified. She walked away. Listen, we’re just about done here. Do you want to order up anything else?