THE PROBLEM WITH GAY MARRIAGE

The problem with gay marriage is that everyone is doing it,
everyone is on the radio saying
I hate gay people
without saying I hate gay people. 
So, shmucks like myself who listen to morning drive a.m. chit chat
get this thing in the head
that we should pay attention to two men who want to
stand up in a church, in front of a priest, a nun, 
in front of the image of Jesus Christ in all his glory and say
I do
then head out to some dance floor on Bluff Hollow Creek
and throw joy all over the night--
some kaleidoscopal teardrop boogie woogie of,
yeah, brother, we did it we did it we did it. 
 
The problem with gay marriage is
what if my kid falls in love with a woman
when she’s a woman?
Is someone named Hart or Heartache or Heartbreak
gonna get up on the pulpit and speak about
lesbian-gay-queer-faggot-dyke marriage
to tarnish the color
come pouring out my kid and her girlfriend’s face
because they have found
that thing that thing that thing?
 
We spend too much time talking
about gay marriage
like it was something to talk about,
like black people and Latinos and Muslims and Afghans
are something to talk about. 
It makes me a shmuck for listening
and I know I should turn off my radio
when the car is at the stop light
but I don’t
and that’s why I’m more of a noodnick than the next guy
until I stop being a one
and do the next best thing:
 
I turn the dial.
 
And there, like some great big unanswered algorithm finally answered,
is the solution to all this yip yap paddywhack
give a dog a bone:
 
It’s Led Zeppelin. 
 
So I put my head out the window and scream, ocean,
to stop myself from listening. 
I’m moving 35 in a 35 and it’s the ocean,
Zeppelin’s “The Ocean” and the ocean in the wind
in the trees
in the squirrel’s nut
and that’s it,
the resolution to the problem of all these gay unions—
 
it’s Plant, Bonham and the rest of the boys
banging their heads into the waves;
it’s the sea and all the salt, the kelp and marlins,
who swim the waters in peace
without anyone’s radio stuck 20 fathoms down
mucking up the current
with its endless voices screaming:
do this
do that
but certainly
do not do the other thing.

© Copyright, 2012, Matthew Lippman.
All rights reserved.